Portmanteau: Gone Hollywood

"I can't win with you," Jackson said as he walked down a hallway. "I need to get some dry clothes on."

Ms. Henderson walked out to the deck and took in the view of the city below.

A few minutes later, Jackson joined her, wearing dry clothes.

Jackson paused, then did a slow turn to look at Ms. Henderson as the city lights reflected on her face.

She was a natural beauty with the look of someone more comfortable alone than with others. Her jacket was open, and without her frumpy Canyon Market polo shirt, he took notice of her large round breasts.

"Wow, that view is amazing," she said about the city below. Jackson's eyes lingered on her chest.

"It is," he replied. She turned to Jackson, who quickly looked away. But he knew she caught him looking.

She looked around at the minimalist furnishings.

"I love your deck," she said quietly.

Jackson froze at the statement and turned to her.

"Would you mind saying that again?" he asked.

"I love your deck?" she repeated, confused.

Inside Jackson's mind, his two sex dreams came rushing back, and the words of his mystery woman.

This time he could make out the face of his seductress. The face was Ms. Henderson. His heart rate quickened.

"You love my..." Jackson paused to let her finish the sentence. He used his hand to gesture to her to complete the phrase.

"Your deck?"

Ms. Henderson was confused and thought the conversation was taking an odd turn.

"Well, I've got to get home. My cat can tell time," she said, heading to the door.

"Wait, you hungry? Join me for dinner?" Jackson insisted.

"Dinner? You want to go to dinner with me?" she replied.

"Sure, yes. I'm hungry. The power is out, and the kitchen's all-electric. Just come with me to Nobu. I hate eating alone. That's when people feel it's okay to ask for selfies and autographs."

"So, I'm a convenient dinner date."

"No, not at all. Just dinner. Join me for dinner; I've got a story to tell you. If I were trying to make a move on you, wouldn't I do that now when I have you in my house?"

"Fine dinner. Not Nobu. Something in the Valley. I'll drive us there. You can Uber home."

"Yes, perfect," Jackson said. "Wait, one more thing. What's your name? Your first name?" he asked.

"Lisa," she replied and headed out to her car.

Thirty minutes later, Jackson and Lisa were seated in the dark interior of Casa Vega on Ventura Boulevard.

"So, here's the thing. I've had these dreams lately. Two of them so far. They're intense. I dream I'm with this perfect woman. She's attractive, and she's sexy. I know she gets me for who I am."

"She got a guy friend I can dream about?" Lisa asked with a laugh.

"I'm serious here. I can't see her face. Her hair is in the way. I can feel her. I've even been inside her," he said.

"Ok, slow down. Are you telling me about a sex dream? I agreed to dinner, but this is getting weird," Lisa said with concern.

"It's you. The dreams are about you. Ever since I met you, you've somehow infected my brain. I'm dreaming about you," he said.

"Sounds like you're dreaming about fucking me," Lisa said.

"Well, yes, we do that, but there's more to it," he replied.

"Was I any good? In your dreams? Am I any good in bed?"

Jackson looked around and leaned in close.

"I came both times," he whispered.

"In your dreams, you came," she said with surprise.

"In my dream and in my reality. I had two wet dreams. Two! I haven't had a wet dream since I was twelve."

Lisa sat back and sized up the Hollywood hunk.

"So, in your dreams, I said I like your dick?"

Jackson nodded.

"And that came back to you when I said I like your deck?"

"It was close enough. Once I heard you say it, I knew it was you," Jackson said with all sincerity.

"I've never told anyone I liked their dick. That's so basic. Seriously though, I'm like ten years older than you. You don't know me at all. I might be a crazy cat lady for all you know."

"I like cats," Jackson replied.

"Well, I don't. Okay, you took me to dinner to tell me you have sex dreams about me. What do you want me to do?"

"I thought you said you had a cat?" Jackson said off her previous comment.

"I do, and I don't like him. Yes, he's home, hungry and shitting on the floor as we speak. Why me?" Lisa asked.

"I don't know. If I didn't tell you, I would go nuts," Jackson replied.

"So, you dreamt of me. I'm flattered. How many girls can lay claim to that? Wait, don't answer. Still, it was a dream, and now that you've told me, I'll bet it stops."

"And if it doesn't?" Jackson asked.

"Then see a therapist. I'm not a therapist. I work in a grocery store." she said, wanting to move on.

"That's what you do? Just a checker? Nothing more?" Jackson asked."

"Well, I came to LA to be an actress, but that didn't work out," she said.

"I know everyone. Do you need an agent? I'll-"

"Absolutely not. I'm done chasing that dream. Hollywood isn't the same for handsome guys like you as for women. Besides, I'm pushing 40. Hollywood hates 40."

"Come on, I can get you a role in-"

"Hard pass," she said, slapping her hand on the table for emphasis.

"Look, my life is not about being a grocery checker. I climb rocks. Free climbing. I'm good at it. But no one ever got rich scaling Half Dome, so I have a day job."

"That would explain your arms."

"You should see my abs. Oh, wait, you did in your dreams," she said with a smirk.

"They were a little soft in my dreams. Nice, however. A little bit of belly, but nice."

"You dreamed wrong. You could bounce a quarter off my abs. So, apparently, I'm not your dream girl."

"You are. The more we talk, the more I know you are," he said.

"You're not going to become a stalker now, are you? I'm not sure how it works when a celebrity stalks you."

"Ok, I'm sorry. This was a lot to dump on you. I'm going to respect your space. I promise not to bring it up again," he said.

I've got to get up at four AM to go to Joshua Tree for a climb, so I'm going to head out now," she replied.

Jackson paid the check, walked Lisa to her car, watched her drive off then waited for his Uber to arrive.

____________________________________________

When he got home, he sat on his deck looking out at the city and contemplated taking an Ambien for a deep, dreamless sleep.

Darkness.

Jackson rose from the couch where he had drifted to sleep to see the figure of a naked woman on his deck. The sheer curtains hid her identity, but the city lights projected her silhouette. He strode toward the deck. Passing a mirror, he noticed he was wearing a tuxedo. Pausing, he admired himself; he looked like James Bond. Giving himself a nod of approval, he poured himself a glass of gin and walked on the deck to see the woman was Lisa. She was practically nude, with just a veil covering almost none of her body.

Moving in, he took a sip of the gin and swallowed it. Lisa took the glass and took a sip for herself; she put her lips to his, opened her mouth, and allowed the gin, now warmed by her heat, to trickle into his mouth. He swallowed as their tongues probed.

The wind blew away her veil, revealing her hard body. In an aggressive Bond move, Jackson turned her to face the deck railing as he pulled his enormous cock from his pants. In a swift move, he drove his length into her waiting depths, embedding himself deep within her. She opened her mouth to gasp in pleasure, but...

Beep! Beep! Beep! The alarm indicated it was four o'clock in the morning.

Lisa sat up, her body drenched in sweat, so much so her t-shirt clung to her breasts.

"Son of a bitch!" she remarked to nobody at all.

Taking off her soaked top, she breathed hard as sweat rolled down her breasts.

Her sleeping shorts, a pair of men's boxer briefs, were soaked. Removing them, she put the damp underwear to her nose and inhaled. It wasn't sweat, and it wasn't pee. It was the wetness she could only produce from an orgasm.

Fuck that guy, she thought.

____________________________________________

Darkness.

Jackson lay sleeping in his large bed. It was a deep and dreamless sleep. The door to his room opened. A woman slowly crept in. Shedding clothing, her muscular body was illuminated by the blue light of the city coming in through the window. She slowly cat-crawled across the bed and lay beside the sleeping movie star. Slipping her right hand under the sheets, she wrapped her fingers around his flaccid rod and began stroking it. Despite his catatonic state, his manhood knew to react. Pulling back the sheets, she kept pumping him as she climbed between his legs and slowly inserted his thickness into her mouth. She let his cock hit the back of her throat without gagging, then slid him in and out of her mouth with increasing rhythm.

Jackson's eyes opened. He knew he went to bed alone, so who was this person giving him oral sex? Then she looked up at him revealing herself - Lisa. She pulled his cock from her mouth, holding it close to her face as she stroked it up and down.

"Oh, God, it feels so good. How did you get in here?" he asked.

"I got horny and climbed up your deck."

Sitting up, Lisa straddled Jackson's waist pressing his cock against her ass. He marveled at her rock-hard abs and her muscular arms. She was the sexiest thing he had ever seen, and he had seen more than most. She plunged her fingers into her pussy and placed them in Jackson's mouth. Her inner flavors were tangy with a taste of cinnamon.

Taking her wet fingers, she reached around to his cock and moistened it with their combined wetness, stroking it several times, then pushing her pouting starfish against his large mushroom tip.

Jackson's cock pulsed rapidly in rhythm with his heartbeat. He could feel her tight knot pressing against his glans. He wanted to be inside her ass badly and attempted to push his way in, but the door to her darkest pleasure remained closed. Pushing again, he felt a sensation. Not of penetrating her, but of a rush of cum. He would not make it inside her ass or anywhere else. His nervous system was on overload. The reaction was a white wave pounding against her rear, covering her cheeks and then dripping to his torso. Jackson closed his eyes and pushed out even more of the thick whiteness.

Lisa nude body shimmered in blue light as she stood and looked outside. "I love your deck," she whispered.

On that statement Jackson sat up and looked around. She was gone. His erection was withering away, and his stomach was covered in semen. Sitting up to find her, he realized this was his third wet dream with Lisa. Something had to give.

The sun was rising as Jackson left for a morning run. Moving through the twisting turning roads above and around Laurel Canyon, his run took him to the market. Stopping, he went inside to find Lisa but remembered she was out climbing today.

____________________________________________

Lisa was sitting on the top of a rock outcropping in Joshua Tree with three other climbing buddies. Her phone buzzed with a number she didn't recognize. She chose to ignore it. It rang again and again. Finally, a text came through, answer your phone.

The phone rang again.

"Who is this?"

"It's Jackson."

Lisa flushed, her face red as Jackson's voice brought back all the intimate memories of her erotic dream with the star.

"How did you get my number?" she asked.

"Sam, the owner of the Canyon Market, gave it to me."

"That sounds illegal. I gotta talk to him about privacy laws."

"He resisted. I had to buy the place. My financial guy will shit when he finds out I bought a boutique grocery store."

"You bought the market to get my number?" she replied incredulously.

"I had another dream last night. Only this time, I could see your face. I thought you would want to know."

"You know this is weird right?" she said.

"I'm seeing that now. I guess this could have waited. I also don't know anything about owning a grocery store."

"Well, I'm glad you called. The truth is, I had a dream too."

"About me?"

"Yeah, it was...intense."

"How intense?"

"My sleeping shorts are still wet."

"I need to see you," Jackson pleaded.

"I'm on top of a giant rock in Joshua Tree," she replied.

"Climb down that rock and go to the Riviera in Palm Springs. Ask for Mr. Shlongstiens's room. Tell them you're my wife."

"Shlongstein?" she replied.

"I don't use my real name at hotels. It's a celebrity thing."

"But Shlongstein? I'm Mrs. Shlongstein?"

"We can come up with a better name later. I gotta get to the airport and charter a helicopter."

"Is this a booty call?" she asked.

"I'm not sure what it is, but if I don't see you soon, I'm gonna go nuts."

Jackson hung up his phone, grabbed his jacket, and headed out to see a woman he had only known for two days and three wet dreams.

____________________________________________

Hours later, Lisa walked into the lobby of the Riviera Palm Springs, still wearing her climbing tights and a tight Keva top. She had dust on her face and didn't look like she belonged as she approached the front desk.

"Hi, I'm here to meet my husband. Mr. Shlongstein. I'm his...I'm his Mrs. Shlongstein."

The attractive woman behind the counter gave Lisa an up-and-down look with a smile. While Lisa might have been expecting the snooty treatment, the young lady was accommodating.

"Hiking, I see," she asked.

"Yes, I got here early. Is my husband here yet?"

"We've sent a car to the airport to meet his helicopter. We've got you in the Sinatra bungalow. Do you want me to get a bellman for your bags?"

"Mr. Shlongstein has the luggage. I'm just going to head to the room and wash up."

Lisa looked around at the luxury accommodations in awe. It wasn't a room Jackson had reserved but a massive bungalow the size of a small house. She rubbed her hands on the fine white pillows of the couch, leaving a red dust mark from her day climbing rocks.

Pulling off her top, her sports bra, then shedding her climbing tights, she walked naked into the bathroom, which was the size of her entire apartment, then into the shower, which was the size of her entire bedroom.

Water from six showerheads hit her with surprise. So much for conservation if you're wealthy enough to pay four grand a night for a bed.

As the desert dust washed down her toned body, Lisa began to have a moment of clarity. She was cleaning herself for a tryst with People Magazine's sexiest man in the world.

This is crazy, she thought. I'm ten years older than him. A moment of panic hit, and she thought of leaving. But the vivid dream of her and Jackson was so compelling that she lost herself in thoughts of feeling him inside her.

As she washed, her hand brushed across her perfectly shaven pussy and her large, engorged clit. Just brushing her sweet spot caused her knees to buckle. She let her hand drift back to her pussy, putting three fingers inside. The water from the shower and her internal flow made a fapping noise.

There was a knock at the bathroom door.

"Is that you, Mr. Shlongstein?" she asked.

"It is. You up for some dinner, Mrs. Shlongstein?" Jackson replied through the closed door.

Lisa exited the shower, wrapped herself in the most luxurious robe she had ever felt, and opened the door to let Jackson in. Standing in the doorway, he admired her natural beauty.

"I don't have anything to wear. I came here in my climbing clothes."

Jackson picked up the phone and pressed a button. "Benjamin? Hey, it's Jackson. Can you have someone from the Hermes store bring me over four, no make it five, dinner dresses."

Jackson looked at Lisa, asking, "Size?"

"I don't know how their sizes run," she replied.

"How tall are you?" he asked.

"Five feet five."

"She has a Jennifer Aniston body, but more toned," Jackson said into the phone.

"Shoes?"

"Size Eight and a half," she replied.

"Eight and a half," he turned back to Lisa. "Your feet are bigger than Jennifer's."

"Bra?"

Lisa smiled and opened her robe to show Jackson her bare breasts. They were large, round, and firm with pert chestnut brown nipples. They hung perfectly on their own.

"No bra needed," he said with confidence.

"They will be here in an hour; I'll make reservations for seven at Mistro."

"Jackson, this is moving too fast for me. I mean, I'm not sure this is right," Lisa said with concern.

"This is dinner and a little getaway to the desert," he replied.

"All based on a dream," she added.

"Dreams," Jackson corrected.

"Dreams. But dreams are not real. What if there is no connection? You're humble, you seem-"

"I'm not entitled. I'm a guy who caught a few lucky breaks. So, I happen to be on top right now. How long will that last? Look, I'm not even the most famous person from my hometown."

"Which is?"

"Jamestown, New York. Home of Lucille Ball. She's got a statue there. I don't."

"I've seen you kiss in movies. You scrunch up your face. It's cute."

"Cute? I'm usually going for sexy," he replied.

"To me, cute is sexy."

"What if we kiss and there's nothing there? I feel like we're deep in the dating game, yet all we've ever done together was get Mexican food."

"We have an hour; let's try the awkward part now. You know, it's our second date. You invited me back to your house to watch TV. I then lean in for a kiss."

Jackson gestured to the plush couch. Lisa sat, and he joined her. The situation's awkwardness was almost comical to the two of them as they sat like high schoolers, each unsure who would move first.

Finally, they both moved slowly toward the other, eyes semi-closed until their lips met.

The awkwardness continued. Jackson's lips were still, holding back. Lisa's lips were tense. The kiss was not good.

They pulled apart, and both sat in silence.

"That kiss sucked," Lisa said with an honesty both could agree upon.

"I was nervous," Jackson explained, "I didn't know what to do."

"I wasn't sure if you expected me to be more aggressive," she replied.

"I feel like we way overthought that," he said.

Lisa didn't respond, at least not with words. Moving to Jackson, she sat astride his lap, took his face in her hands, and planted the softest kiss Jackson had ever received.

His response was to wrap his arms around her pulling her in close as their mouths slowly opened, taking the kiss deeper and deeper. Since she initiated the kiss, Lisa continued to lead, gently probing Jackson's mouth with her tongue. In turn, he probed hers. Their heat rose together.

Wearing only the robe, Lisa's bare pussy was directly astride Jackson's clothed crotch. Despite the denim, she sensed his cock swelling through the jeans. Her pussy watered in reaction as she ground herself against his rising thickness. Moving his kisses to her neck, Jackson was slow and steady, perhaps too slow, as Lisa opened the top of her robe again, showing her large perfect breasts to Jackson, only this time feeding them to his mouth.

Feeling their tender softness with his hands, Jackson knew these were the real deal. He had been with more fake tits than real and could quickly tell the difference with his tongue. They were genuine, and they were magnificent.

Jackson brought his mouth to Lisa's extended nipples, licking them. The blood rushing to her breasts caused them to swell while the tip of her nipples dimpled inward slightly.

The sensation of having her breasts touched and licked emanated through her body. She wanted to touch her clit and bring herself to an orgasm but had to settle for grinding her mound against Jackson's raging denim-covered hard-on.

Sliding down his legs, Lisa moved off Jackson's crotch. His jeans were soiled with her wetness, making it look like he peed himself.