Star Trippers

Sitting in his room later, he found himself thinking back to his day with Helen Travers. It hadn't gone exactly the way he had pictured it, but in the end, things had turned out o.k. Thinking about it jogged his imagination into gear, and he quickly felt a story starting to coalesce in his mind. He had left his laptop at his apartment worried that it might get stolen at the convention, but he wasn't above going old school and sketching his ideas out on paper to be typed up later. The hotel stationary proved to be adequate for the purpose, and he began to write out a story about a young fan who meets his sexy older hero. By the time his hand started to tire from writing he had put together quite the hot little fable with the character of Harriet, a thinly veiled version of Helen Travers, teaching the young protagonist Archie a thing or two about bedroom sex scenes.

"Steamy Artie. Pretty damn steamy..." he said to himself as he sat the pages aside. He figured he would finish in the morning and turned off the light to get some sleep.

DAY TWO -

Artie fought to wake up. He had never been a morning person, and his best friend had often been the snooze bar. Only the thought of letting down Helen if he showed up late finally forced him from the surprisingly comfortable hotel bed and out the door. He was glad he arrived on time though because it gave him a chance to see Helen Travers before the crowds started to come, and given what she was wearing he was thrilled to have her all to himself, well, he and Hector.

Helen had arrived at the table, looking far more lively than she had the day before and wearing a vintage uniform from the show. Unlike the later more military styled outfit that had better befitted her character, she had chosen to put on the short-skirted early first season one piling the red curls on top of her head in a loose style held in place with a dark hair comb. The outfit itself clung to her like a second skin showing off her still impressive long legs and accentuating her ample bosoms. Artie and Hector both admired her from down the table.

"I know what you're thinking, but this outfit tends to bring in the crowds more and I have to pay the rent boys," said Helen with a laugh.

"I wasn't saying anything," said Hector.

"It still looks great on you," commented Artie.

"Thanks. It's not the original exactly. I did have to have it tailored to fit over my fat ass, but it's pretty close."

"There's nothing about you that looks fat in that outfit," blurted Artie and he turned red as soon as it hit him that he had even said something so flirtatious to Helen Travers of all people.

"You're going to make a good husband someday with lines like that, Artie," said Helen throwing in a wink that left Artie breathless.

"Maybe I should let you two get a room," said Hector too quietly for Helen to hear but drawing a frown from Artie.

Whether it was because of the uniform or just that Saturday tended to draw a bigger crowd the line was soon backing up, and Artie and Hector had their hands full keeping up with the long queue of fans trying to get a moment with the woman who had brought Lexi McCann into their living rooms. Helen was indeed in much better spirits today, perhaps laying off on the alcohol had helped, and she was doing a fantastic job of chatting up her fans, making them laugh and blush in turn.

"Look at you two fine young men. You would definitely have a place in the Pan-Galactic Fleet!" she said as she threw her arms around a pair of muscular college-aged gentlemen while Hector snapped a photo for them. Artie felt an odd twinge of jealousy.

"Hey, Artie, break time!" said Dave walking up with Tina in tow.

Artie tore his gaze from Helen nodding at his friend. Two other staff employees he had never seen before were with them and introduced themselves as Terry and Marcus. They would fill in for Artie and Hector for the next two hours while they got a chance to enjoy the convention.

"O.K., Guys," said Artie handing the money bag over to Marcus. He paused to wave at Helen, who was still signing autographs before taking off.

The trio made their way to the main stage where Roger Fremont was due to address the fans shortly. The line to get in was backed up pretty far, and they waited their turn joined by a fourth guy wearing a staff shirt who materialized from out of the crowd.

"Artie and Dave, this is Joe. He and I have been working the lines at that wrestler's table," explained Tina.

Joe shook hands with the pair. He was taller than either of them with ash blond hair cut short around a rather handsome face.

"Jumping Bobby Jay, yeah he is quite a character," laughed Joe about the wrestler they had been assigned to help.

"If you're into that sort of thing," mentioned Tina without much interest in her voice.

Artie noticed that Joe couldn't seem to take his eyes off Tina and Dave was quick to pick up on the same thing.

"I told you some other nerd would make a move if you didn't," whispered Dave to Artie as the line started to move. Artie threw an elbow into his ribs both to shut him up and because he was embarrassed to admit that Dave was probably right.

The group of four took a seat in the large auditorium. The lights dropped down, and Roger Fremont took the stage to thunderous applause.

"Time waits for no man!" he shouted, using his catchphrase to bring the audience to its feet.

The next hour flew by as the people in attendance bombarded the aging actor with questions about everything from his favorite episode to if it was true he did his own stunts. Artie enjoyed the presentation finding himself reminiscing about the old show that he used to watch in syndicated reruns after school. Tina went so far as to get in line to ask a question, but time ran out before she could reach the front. The group gathered outside afterward deciding to go shopping on the vendor floor and eat.

The convention hall was crowded with people many in costumes from their favorite T.V. shows and movies. This was always Artie's favorite part just walking around and people watching. He ended up buying a vintage prop model of the starship "Trailblazer " the command ship from Star Trippers. The cost knocked a nice little hole in his budget for the weekend, but he figured he could get Helen to sign it, which would increase it's value tenfold.

"Nice find," said Dave admiring the model.

"What happened to Tina and Joe?" asked Artie noticing the pair had wandered off while he was paying.

"Who can say in this crowd. Did you still want to get something to eat?"

"We need to make it quick I have to get back to my table soon."

The concession area was even more crowded than the concourse, and he and Dave had to settle for some pizza slices since that place had the shortest line. They wolfed down their food and headed back to their respective autograph areas promising to meet up for dinner later that evening.

The line at Helen's table had died down considerably, and Artie took his place as the last few customers cycled through.

"What do you have there?" asked Helen as she massaged her wrist that had gotten sore from signing.

"You should recognize it," replied Artie holding it closer to her.

She smiled and took the box in her hand, turning it around to examine the photos of the ship that had carried her character across the galaxy.

"Funny, I remember it being bigger."

"Ha...Ha..." snorted Artie sarcastically.

"I take it you would like me to sign it for you?"

"I didn't want to presume..."

"Oh! Good lord, Artie," laughed Helen with playful exasperation as she scooped a marker from the table to put her signature on the box.

"So...Who was that girl you were ogling earlier?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Don't play coy with me, Artie. The little Winona Ryder look-a-like that came over to the table before lunch."

"Her, right. Her name is Tina, and we met during orientation, but nothing is going on there."

"Is that right..." she said, letting the comment dangle in the air.

"Seriously, I think maybe there could have been, but I missed the boat."

"It's not too late till there's a ring on that finger, Artie."

"Maybe...but I'm kind of rusty in that regard."

"Talking to a girl isn't like doing calculus. You're a funny, good-looking guy, I'm sure you would be fine with a little confidence in your game."

"Confidence isn't exactly something I have an abundance of I'm afraid," said Artie sheepishly.

Helen seemed on the verge of adding more advice to the conversation, but another large group came up to the table, and it was back to work. The crowd stayed pretty steady right up to the time that Helen had to leave to do her professional photo opportunities with fans who had paid for the portraits leaving Artie to shut down the booth for the evening. He cleared up and packed away the remaining publicity photos readying them for the final day of the convention. After turning in the money bag, he wandered around the floor looking at the work of local artists while waiting for Dave to finish things at the always over-crowded Roger Fremont table.

Artie was just about to reach for his cell phone to text Dave when a hand dropped onto his shoulder, making him jump and whirl around.

"Helen?"

She looked visibly upset her face red and on the verge of crying.

"What's wrong?"

"Dammit! I was coming back from the photo op area, and I got a call from my agent. I was up for the lead in a new T.V. biopic on Jackie Kennedy, but I lost out to some hack with more tits than talent," she said in a voice shaking with emotion.

Artie decided it would be a bad idea to point out that Helen had enough tit for two women.

"I'm sure there will be other parts for you."

"Will there? I haven't had a decent role in years. I'm sick of doing dog food commercials and ads for feminine hygiene products! My career is a joke, and my boyfriend is chasing women half my age."

"I'm sorry," said Artie, not sure what to say to comfort an aging actress.

"I need to get out of here and get a drink," she mumbled.

"Hey, now. I don't think that would be a very good idea. Don't you have to attend the costume contest in a couple of hours as the special guest?"

"Oh...Crap! I'm so not up for that right now. I need...to pull myself together in private, but there's nowhere to go that isn't filled with con goers or staff people trying to kiss my ass. They have me in a hotel too far from here to make it back in time...The problem with being a celebrity you can't stay in the same hotel as the fans."

An idea occurred to Artie, and he blurted it out, "I have a room at the convention center hotel next door. You could use it if you want?"

Helen looked around in thought, wiping a tear from the corner of one eye.

"Thanks...Artie that's generous of you. Would you walk with me? I need someone to vent to right now."

They fell in together with Helen talking a blue streak all the way out of the main hall and across the connecting tunnel to the hotel. Artie learned more about her floundering career and failed marriages in ten minutes that most of the tabloids had written in the last ten years. It occurred to him that even people who seemed to be living the glamorous life are prone to the same problems and failings as the rest of us.

He led Helen to his hotel room, fumbling with the electronic key trying to open the door.

"It isn't much, but you can make yourself at home," he said, setting his model ship aside on the dresser.

"Could you be a dear and get me a cold bottled water?" asked Helen as she slumped into a chair.

Artie nodded and left the room in search of a vending machine, but it turned out the one on his floor was out of order. He ended up having to go two floors up to find one that worked and then waited behind a rather rotund gentleman who spent a considerable amount of time trying to choose between an orange or a grape soda.

"I'm sorry that took so long the machine was broken on this floor and I had to go hunting for another one," explained Artie as he closed the hotel room door behind him.

He took a few steps into the room holding the cold bottle of water out in front of him but froze when he saw Helen putting down the stack of papers he had left on the desk the night before. The very ones containing the story he had been writing using her as the inspiration.

"Um...I can explain..." he started wondering just what in the Hell he was going to say.

"You have quite an imagination, Artie. You need to work on the spelling though 'clitoris' has an 'I' at the end, not a 'U'"

"Helen...I'm so sorry...I was just..."

"I've seen fan fiction before though I admit this is the first time it was about me in particular and not me as a character. You know the whole, 'Lexi McCann uses her body to escape the clutches of the evil Doctor NovaStorm?' kind of stories."

She rose from the chair with a smile that made Artie supremely nervous. He had fully expected anger and righteous indignation and was getting something very different altogether.

"You're not angry?"

"About your story? No...not really...It took me by surprise, but it's actually quite good. You have some real talent as a writer."

"Thanks..."

Artie could feel the tension growing in the room as the distance between him and Helen vanished until she was standing just inches from him.

"You got a few details wrong, but then you were working from imagination. You've never seen the real thing."

He may have been too young for a heart attack, but Artie felt like his chest was going to burst when Helen reached behind her and unhooked her dress, pulling it forward. It turned out the back was just held together with Velcro, and it peeled open as she moved it downward uncovering everything that was hers from the waist up. The dress kept moving toward the floor, and when she stood straight again, she was naked except for a pink, lacy thong that just barely covered the red-haired bush between her legs.

"There. Can you see where you got it wrong? I think my breasts may be even bigger than you thought."

"...Holy shit..." was all Artie could get out.

"Do you remember episode fifteen?"

"What?" Artie stammered.

"Episode fifteen. Where Lexi McCann had to get the disarm codes for the genetic super weapon from the Aradeen Ambassador? It was implied that I seduced him, but the screen fades to black because, well it was network T.V. during prime time so we could only hint at that kind of thing. You know what I think? I think that scene would have gone something like this..."

"Oh...Sweet Lord..." gasped Artie as Helen dropped to her knees in front of him and proceeded to unbuckle his pants, pulling them to the floor and exposing his black silk boxers. The bulge of his cock was clearly outlined on the material, and he jumped a bit when she ran one hand across it squeezing the stiff pole in her palm. His underwear didn't remain in place his body giving a little shiver as the cold air of the hotel room hit his sensitive balls.

Artie didn't feel chilled for long.

"Ahhh...Jesus, Helen!" he moaned as she took his rock hard penis and licked it from bottom to top before letting it sink past her full, red lips.

"This can't possibly be happening. I must be dreaming!" thought Artie.

The sight of his childhood crush on her knees, sucking his cock was every fantasy he had ever had coming to life. He considered himself an above average writer, but he realized inside of twenty seconds that no fan-fiction he had ever put on paper in any way did justice to the real thing. Helen Travers was an epic cocksucker!

The sounds of his cock sloshing in and out of her mouth filled the room. She covered his dick in gleaming spit, letting it slip from her lips every so often to take a turn at licking his tight balls while her hand kept sliding up and down the slippery shaft. Artie couldn't do much more than stand there moaning and staring in disbelief at first, but it finally hit him that he needed to get in the game too.

He pulled back letting his cock escape Helen's lips with a pop as the suction broke then he helped her back to her feet allowing her naked body to press to his while his mouth found her wet, swollen lips. In no universe had he ever seen this happening, but if this was a dream, it sure felt real when his lips met Helen's silky soft ones.

They fell immediately into a deep, hungry, French kiss swirling their tongues together and exploring. Artie let his hands slide down Helen's back to cup the cheeks of her tight ass made like iron from years of aerobic exercise. She squirmed in his arms; her moans lost down his throat. He led her back to the bed, stopping when they hit the edge of the mattress. The kiss broke, and they stood gasping for breath before Artie moved in again kissing her slender neck and working his way down past her collar bone, soft, gentle kisses, letting his tongue slide down the long slope of one magnificent breast.

He cupped the firm, smooth flesh of her love mound in his right hand. The weight of it was impressive, far more substantial than any woman he had been with before this moment. Helen's areola was wide and a dark shade of pink her tiny nipple lost in a sea of bumpy skin that seemed to tighten even more as he let his tongue drag across it. She groaned aloud when he finally reached the small peak in the center, sucking it between his teeth and nibbling on it.

"Ummm...Artie...You have no idea how bad I need this fuck..." she whispered.

Artie was in no hurry though since he was having far too much fun playing with her giant tits. He moved from one to the other licking and sucking them until the dark pink skin of her areolas had turned a crimson red. The perky shapes of her erect nipples stood so firm that it appeared they were ready to burst, and each time he bit on one, she squealed and grabbed his head.

"Fuck! I love that so much! Ah! Bite my nipples, Artie!"

They dropped onto the bed together, trading sloppy, desperate kisses the whole way down. His fingers found the edges of her thong, and he removed it quickly, tossing it into a corner. Helen was only lightly trimmed between her legs giving free rein to a genuinely spectacular mound of red pubic hair. The lips of her vaginal entrance shined with her juice and Artie wasted no time pressing his tongue into that warm slit tasting her tart nectar.

"Oh! Artie! Yes, Baby! Lick that pussy! Ahhhh, fuck! You are so good...Making my pussy feel so good! AHH, FUCK!" whimpered Helen.

She grabbed at his hands, pulling them back to her chest so that he could tease her nipples even more while he made a meal of her aroused cunt. Helen thrashed all over the bed as the pleasure grew exponentially inside her with each lick of his tongue, pushing her closer to the orgasm she so frantically needed. Her clitoris was lit up like a Christmas tree, tingles rolling through her stomach.

"Fuck...Baby...So good...Oh, GOD! SO GOOD! Ah! Shit! Artie! Been so long...since I had...a...good hard...orgasm...but I'm going to go...going to fucking cum right NOWWWWWWWWW!"

Her back arched like a rainbow up off the bed, pressing her dripping pussy even tighter to Artie's flicking tongue while juice poured from her slit covering his face. He squeezed her breasts tight while her body shook with one orgasmic spasm after another until she crashed back to the bed, moaning in the back of her throat.

"Damn...Artie...That was so good..."

The bed shook slightly with the shifting weight as Artie joined her at the top, pulling her into an embrace. Helen leaned over to cover his mouth with hers kissing him with grateful, sweet French kisses, letting the tip of her tongue tease him with each gentle flick. The throbbing cock between his legs slipped easily into her hand, and she tugged at his steel hard pole, letting her palm roll around the thick, mushroom-like head. Artie groaned and quivered with each touch gasping even louder when she squeezed the tip of his penis.