Tarnished Tinsel Town

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A celebrity tradition is disasterously discontinued.
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Deadwood
Deadwood
74 Followers

There was always a sigh of relief from Scott Steele whenever Tiffany Amber Thiessen emerged from a building and was safely in the confines of her limousine and moving at speed towards her residence. As her body guard, it was his job to worry, and now that they were on the freeway, he could relax a bit.

"How was your tennis match today," he asked quietly, trying to sound nonchalant as he gently steered the conversation into something more profound?

"Good. I'm not as sore as I was last week so I played a bit harder. I can definitely see though how that game can keep you in shape."

"Oh yeah, its great exercise and stress relief too I suppose."

"Oh Definitely..."

"Speaking of stress relief, you do know it's my birthday today don't you," he said letting his words trail off. Tiffany slowly nodded her head, the expression on her face now turning to a look of seriousness as she looked down at her stark white canvas shoes for a lack of a better place to look.

"Yes I knew that, but I'm not sure I can keep up that birthday tradition this year. I'm married now Scott."

"Oh my God, do you really think Brock would care? I guard you with my life Tiffany."

"I know that, and I know that he probably wouldn't care, but..."

"But now that you are married, you don't want to?"

"It's not that I mind, it's just that I feel guilty about it."

"But it is tradition," Scott countered weakly with a shrug of his shoulders.

It was no big secret that many female celebrities had a long standing tradition of giving their body guards a blowjob as a birthday present. Considering what they did and the sacrifice they were willing to make, it was only fair. For the last three years, Tiffany had honored that tradition, but this year the dynamics had changed.

As the limousine pulled up to the lavish estate in Long Beach, it only slowed as the giant iron gate slowly swung open and the car began to pull up the long driveway to the front foyer. When it stopped, Tiffany turned to Scott.

"Why don't you meet me at the pool house in half an hour and I'll give you your birthday present? It's probably not right, but...."

Scott was not disappointed when a half hour later Tiffany stepped through the doorway of the pool house and smiled at her body guard. She was still wearing the same outfit she had worn to her tennis practice, but Scott knew Tiffany well and knew the casual, comfortable clothes was more her style than the dresses and fashionable heels her career forced her to wear on most occasions. He especially liked the way the stark white clothing contrasted against her tan skin.

For the moment Tiffany was content to lean against the door casing and let her body guard take her all in. She watched his gaze slowly slide up from the floor obviously enjoying how her feet looked in her white canvas sneakers and matching stark white slouch socks that scrunched up just below her calves. From here only the toned, tanned color of her skin rose up as Scott enjoyed the look of her tight calves and thighs before the color turned white again. It did so at the hemline of her mini-skirt, a hemline that hovered several inches above her knees and rose until it connected with her white polo shirt. Except for a few thin ribbons of dark blue piping and matching buttons, the collared polo shirt was as stark white as the rest of her outfit. Still Scott was hardly disappointed.

"How do you want to do this," Tiffany asked as their eyes finally met and she began to step closer to him? Scott answered by moving so that he was sitting sideways on a small wooden lounge chair. Pulling a foam pool toy over with his foot, a set of directions was given without saying a word.

"On my knees I assume?"

"And topless."

"Oh and topless too," she said with a pretend huff, but quickly knelt on the foam toy and set about unbuttoning her polo shirt. It only took a few seconds to thread the nylon buttons between the slots in the cloth, and then she peeled off the rather constricting shirt and tossed it unceremoniously onto the concrete floor beside her.

Her white sports bra came next, and with a bit of fussing to undo the catches in the back, Tiffany released the tension, but held the bra over her chest with her hands. Pulling it free was a bit harder than she thought, for Brock had been the only one that had seen her partially nude since being wed. With a deep breath she finally pulled the white bra away from her chest and felt the cool air rush over them as they spilled free and was exposed for Scott's viewing.

Scott was already pulling down his black denim jeans, and it surprised Tiffany to be helped him tug these down to his ankles. Scott had hooked his thumbs into the waist band of his underwear as he did so, and thus in a matter of seconds, Scott was well prepared to be given his birthday present.

"Happy birthday Scott," she said with a smile as she reached out to tame his shaft as it arced slightly to the left and twitched ever so slightly from the arousal of her half-nudity.

She had to admit, as much as this was a favor on her part, she liked how it looked, a violent purple color now that it was engorged with blood, and contrasted with the pale color of Scott's hips and groin. The skin of his cock was also a contrast, sweet and soft, but was also thickly veined and as muscular as the rest of his body. Tiffany turned her head and began giving him a blowjob by licking up and down his powerful cock, burying her face in the warmth of his body, and giving him a pleasure so many men in America wanted, but only prominent men actually got.

"In your mouth Tiffany," he said through half-closed eyes and could not resist the urge to stroke the back of her head as he steered her mouth towards saliva-covered shaft.

Like a languid weight gently pushing her gently down on him, Tiffany opened her mouth up wide in an effort to capture as much of the bodyguard as she possibly could. As the shaft slid along the roof of her mouth it forced her cheeks out in a big bulge. Tiffany knew there was no way she could fully accommodate him, at least, not nearly as much as her bodyguard wanted her too. With his hands gripping the sides of her head, she became subtly aware of his ultimate goal. She eased her mouth off his shaft again, pressing hard against his hands, and then tried to relax her throat as she lowered her mouth over his shaft again, hoping to take the man to a depth that he would accept.

"Deeper Tiffany, all the way to the root," came his reply as Tiffany began to gag. It had been her ambition all along and even now she tried to corkscrew her mouth onto his shaft, hoping the twisting action would allow his cock to find a path through her mouth that was comfortable for her as well.

Whether it was a sense of urgency or just a sudden lustful urge Tiffany was not sure. But as she began to cover the bottom portion of the prick, he gave his hips a quick little thrust. With his hands on the sides of her head, Tiffany could not recoil with the thrust, and instantaneously felt her lips touch the man's wrinkly scrotum while her nose plowed through his wiry pubic hair. It certainly was not comfortable, and Tiffany gagged unmercifully from the forced act. As he held her mouth there, tears starting to invade the corners of her eyes, but made eye contact with him out of obedience. She could tell that was all he wanted when he released his grip and let her mouth slip back to a more comfortable position.

"I just wanted to see if you could take it all Tiffany. But you can finish any way you want now."

Tiffany nodded as her mouth engulfed his length and she endeavored to slide as much as she could down her throat. It was not to the same submarine shattering depths that she had achieved before, but she was proud to at least capture two thirds of his shaft. She grew a little nervous as he grabbed at her hair and began to move his hips. This time at least she accommodated him in comfort, even as he began to increase his tempo and close his eyes. She still maintained her suction, but her main goal was to hold her mouth steady and give him a warm, moist cavern for him to thrust his cock into. This simple act brought him even closer to orgasm.

"Tiffany, I'm close," he announced as his balls rose in preparation to fire.

As he said that, he could not help but to reach out and grasp at the two fleshy globes that were dancing just ahead of him, keeping time to that of the ministrations that she was plying upon his cock. Tiffany tried not to flinch, but she could not help but to tense up as his hands slid along her breasts and toyed at her nipples. She sucked in her breath and closed her eyes, trying to will herself into denying the wonderful sensations her bodyguard was now giving her.

It was impossibility, for Scott's hand's touched her just like her husband's. His palms squashed her breasts with the same sort of pressure; his fingers spread out in the same star pattern, but it was the way in which he flicked in time at her sweet nipples that gave Tiffany the sense of shame from her infidelity. Even though she was sure Brock would not care, that he would understand this was simply a tradition, the feeling of wrongdoing was so great that she pulled her lips off Scott's shaft and began to cry.

"I can't do this Scott. I am sorry, but I just can't," she tried to explain through sobs as she threw on her white tennis top and bolted from the pool house.

For the next two days Scott and Tiffany hardly said a word to each other, the dynamics of their relationship having changed from the ultimate rejection Tiffany had given him. Scott still ensured her safety was never compromised however whether they were returning from her daily tennis lessons or engaging in a high level social function as was the case this evening. As Scott sat next to her and looked out the darkened windows of the limousine, he was surprised when Tiffany finally broke the silence.

"For what it is worth Scott I'm sorry I did not finish what I started. I know you don't understand, but I just couldn't. I'm married now and that does mean something to me."

"It's alright Tiffany. It was just tradition anyway," Scott said with a forced grin, but Tiffany could tell he had been crushed by her rejection. Tiffany padded his knee knowing no amount of words would help him understand, but hoped at least a sign of compassion would ease the hurt.

As the limousine eased up to a stop beside the lavish foyer of the theater, a throng of media reporters, fans and security officers began to swell around the back door. With each black limousine looking identical, the opening of the rear passenger's door was as much a thrill at finding out whom the celebrity was as much as it was the popularity of the celebrity itself.

Protocol ensured Tiffany emerged from the vehicle first, followed quickly by Scott. Forcing a big smile, she twisted in the seat, heard the latch of the door open and then stepped out into the flashing cameras, cameramen and fans as they milled closely about the door.

"Tiffany..." came a loud voice from somewhere in the crowd. "Tiffany," it came again as she turned to see who was yelling above the crazy media circus that now engulfed her. "Can I get your autograph?"

Scott looked up as well and saw a man pressing himself between two police officers as well as pressing hard against the red rope that separated fans from the red carpet. As he did however he held up a pad and be a pen, or at least what appeared to be a pen. From out of the corner of Scott's eye he saw the pen reflect light. With his mind churning a thousand thoughts a second, he realized there were no metallic parts on a pen.

Instantly his thoughts collided with the fan's as the fan made a lunge for Tiffany. As the spun between the two police officers and toppled over the thick decorative rope, Scott lunged forward as well. He tried to grab the man's wrist and deflect it away, but missed. Instead the mid air collision between the two ended up in a bone-jarring crunch. Tiffany was tripped up in the upheaval and was sent sprawling to the carpet.

"Tiffany"...the man began to yell, but as he tried to squirm out from underneath Scott, his wrist twisted and a knife concealed as a knife emerged. Tiffany crawled away from the mess as quickly as possible as the Police Officer's all around the vicinity began to recover and join Scott in detaining the deranged fan.

Scott looked over his shoulder and tried to make sure Tiffany was alright. He tried to call out her name, but no sound emerged, just a bubbling, gurgling sound. Out of fright Scott looked at the knife blade now been wrestled out of the fan's hands and saw a trickle of red crimson blood slowly drip down the shiny stainless steel blade. He tried to yell again, but once more only a gurgling came out.

In the pig pile that ensued, it only took a second for Scott to be rolled off the man by an army of police officers. As he did, the injury the fan's knife inflicted on Scott was evident. Blood continued to be pumped in a gush out of neck from where his arm had failed to come into contact with the assailant's and the knife brought directly across his throat.

In the upheaval, Tiffany and Scott were separated. Roughly shoved into the protection of the theater's main doors, Tiffany was surrounded by security personnel and police officer's and cut off from the craziness still churning just outside. She had no idea what was going on outside until she overheard the conversation of two security guards next to her.

"Yeah it's too bad. The body guard, he's done. Did you see the knife cut to his neck? He'll never make it."

It only took a second for Tiffany to realize they were talking about Scott. As she pressed her cheek up to the revolving glass door, she saw the bright red lights of the ambulance slowly pull away from the curb and screech down the street.

"Scott...Scott...I should have finished what I started. God how I wish I should have finished what I started," she said aloud. Somewhere in the night, buried deep inside of the ambulance, under a magnitude of blankets and over the wail of the ambulance's sirens, Tiffany knew she heard him.

As she continued to watch however, she saw it pass by a street light that suddenly burned itself out. As if by divine symbolism, Tiffany knew it was at that very moment that Scott died. As the ambulance screamed its loud wail around the street corner and disappeared, Tiffany looked down the long narrow street and knew tinsel town would forever be changed. Tinsel town would forever be tarnished.

Deadwood
Deadwood
74 Followers
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