Tegan's Starlet Blog

First off, she's been my BFF since always. We hit it off day-one. Jamie was Wonder Woman, with her brunette hair, to my Super Girl blonde.—Even though we were chubby little kids in our Catholic school uniforms. If you saw us back then, your fetish would besoover. :-( But, so, since childhood we grew up together, just on the tip of a decent-sized city in a Southern red state. We weren't trailer poor, but we sure got use out our imagination.

So, now, we're twenty-four and, really, never left each other's side. Well, we were apart only a minute—when Jamie went for her Associate's degree and I got on a reality show. After that, for whatever reason, I started getting offers to do more reality TV, some very small movie walk-ons, or whatever, and some regular-likePlayboygigs.—Way fun!—I got me a woman agent: Elyse, she rocks! (The guy I hired at first turned out to be a dirtbag who wanted more than 15%, and it wasn't money. One minute, he'd have me bending over the desk looking over my proofs; the next, he'd have my jeans down my ankles and his cock riding up me.And,he'd still be discussing business! such a workaholic, he didn't know how to separate work and life.—And, he kept selling me as "the go-to bare-a-tit gal".) Anyway, eventually, Jamie and I reunited, with me kinda hiring her as an "assistant" but really just party partners.

One thing about men: I didn't finish college—okay?—but I'm not dumb. I'm really very smart. I have a really prosperous career and I'm very intuitive about people. But, for some reason, I'm always hooking up with jerks. I don't know how, but I'm like a magnet to damaged, little boys. They're always hottie autograph hounds one day and total tools the next. I guess I'd be intimidated too if I was a guy who made less than his girlfriend. (I kinda like regular joes over celebrities. Celebs aresofake—all parties and compliments, private visits to your trailer; but, they never wanna eat with you off the set, never ever call after wrapping.) The regular joes are real, but they truly need psychiatric counseling, learn to deal with a confident, independent woman.

One guy, Gareth, was so cool, for so long, then three months in, after we had exchanged duplicate keys to each other's apartments, he started in on how turned on he was to all the fan attention I was getting. I thought it just a long joke growing stale, then he returned home one night, from out wherever, climbed naked into bed, awaking me. I wasreallysleepy, but he was so cute. Then, I realized there was a naked man on the other side of me. Gareth whined so much about my embarrassing him, as they pulled the covers off me and me out my nightshirt, I stopped complaining and let them diddle me, kiss me, double-dick my mouth, then lay me down and skewer me. I didn't mind giving them some—though they rode me too hard, too long; though it would've been nice to have beenasked,first. And, though I really didn't appreciate the high-fives over me.

You can best believe I dumped Gareth's ass not long after that, and started seeing a buddy of his, who had been such a sweetie to me during the break-up. His name was Cody and, trust me, I was taking it real slow. But, whatever,hebecame an ass, and was lamer than Gareth. One night, he called and said he was on his way over. I thought I'd surprise him at the door wearing a pink teddy he liked but had yet to see me in.

Well, he surprised me. He had three Black guys with him. Three minor league—or, whatever you call it—basketball players. He, I found out, liked the idea of Black guys—big, dumb jocks or drunk, scrawny nerds. So, at the door, I tried to cover myself as best I could, as Cody and I talked over each other over this miscommunication, but these other guys invited themselves in, going to the fridge for beer. Two returned to my side, just casually feeling me up. I brushed their hands away, here and there, but my attention was clouding over. I wanted them gone or, at least, quietly outta the hallway. I guess when I took a breath to refocus, they all thought I had given in. One Black guy lifted me up and carried me into my bedroom.

"It's okay, Tegan," I could hear Cody calling; "It's cool, right? you and Gareth used to do this all the time, he said."

The one guy set me, reverse-straddled, atop another guy who lay naked in my bed. I sank deep onto his pole, without any lubed-up ease. Cody came over, cradled my chin in his hand, kissed me, pulled off my teddy, then left the room, left the other guy to push me back as he dipped me from the front. The third guy stood on my bed, and wrapped my mouth around his fucking huge johnson. Cody returned to the door, from what I could see through teary eyes and jumbled sight. He had made a sandwich.—Oh, and after, I don't know if he was too shamed to face me, or what, but I never heard from Cody again.

Anyway, so while I was dealing with losers—and, Jamie was such a rockstar with her positive vibe and car-keying know-how—she met this really amazing guy on the set of some straight-to-video I was in. Dane wasn't an actor, or anything. He was one of the Crafts services guys. (Jamie likes the regular joes, too. Though Danewasgorgeous, we didn't go for guys who'd be in the mirror primping more than us.) So, they took it slow, finally moving in together after one year, then getting engaged the next. Jamie had stopped "working" for me and settled in LA with Dane. Throughout it all, we three hung out, when we could. I didn't mind third-wheel status, when I didn't have anybody, because Dane and Jamie didn't do a lotta PDA around me and we all hugged up on each other like silly, little kids.

So, with all that said, we had gone to Aruba. I had a quick shoot and they had vacation time. One morning, Jamie called and asked if I had packed a brand of bodywash we liked.—It's organic. Awesome.—I had just showered, so sneaking barefoot down the hotel corridor, naked in a plush robe, I made it to their room. They were being playful as ever. Dane had already showered. He was used to rising early, even after partying all night. Jamie was trying to smother him with kisses. She had morning breath and no shower, and Dane was squirming, trying to get away from her. She yelled for me to cut him off and we took him at the couch. We were hugging him and kissing his cheeks and laughing so hard we were all red. Jamie seized up the wash and went to shower.

"Hey! if he moves, get him!" she spun and said, then disappeared out the room.

Hey, Dane moved. He tried to sit up, straighten his t-shirt. I threw my arms around him, kissing his cheek real fast and furious, then pulled away, laughing. He looked a little po'd. I know how much he likes his clothes, from a mere t-shirt to a three-button suit.

"Aw, you mad?"

"You move, and see if you like it," he threatened.

I shook in place like I was having a brief seizure, and the nincompoop threw his arms around me, kissing my cheek. As he's a lot heavier than me, we fell back on the couch. I was laughing as he was trying to get his hand from pinned between my shoulder blade and the cushion. I refused to lift up.

"Well, lookee here," he said.

My big dumb boob had popped out. I tried to place it back and Dane attacked me again.

"You moved!"

This time, though, he started cupping my boob, and pulling the other out, sucking and pinching the nipples.

"Dane? no! what're you doing?"

"Nothing. This is nothing. Actors do it all the time, don't they?"

"I know, but Jamie—"

"She doesn't care! it's just play. You two grab at me all the time. It's nothing."

"I guess."

He shifted us—me flat on my back, him atop me. He untied the belt, pulled the robe open. He palmed my tits as he licked down to my navel. He asked innocently if I thought his cock would fit between my tits. Before I could answer that I didn't know what he looked like down there, there it was. He stripped off his khaki shorts and t-shirt. I scooted up, resting on my forearms, and Dane straddled me, crushing my breasts around his really nice, semi-soft boner. He began to thrust it up and down, amazed how you could see the head at top.

"You'resocrazy," I laughed.

He was so adorable, like a kid, with that expression. To see what his face would do next, I licked down as his cock came up. I tagged it a few times, then he dropped my breasts and pulled my head forward, my mouth on him. I wanted to question whether this was appropriate, with Jamie in the next room, the shower easily heard. But, he wasn't forcing me on him, not trying to choke me, like jerks do. He let me slob his knob with lips and tongue. While I did this, he gently caressed my clit, his palm then fingers running along my baldvaginuus invituus;-) not within it.

He lay me back again, on my side and pulled himself behind me a little. He was trying to stick me in the ass. I tried to explain that that couldn't be right, but he replied that the ass didn't count, that everybody knows the vagina equals actual sex. I know I had heard something like that, somewhere, though not for something like this. But, I guess it was all right and I knew Dane was a great guy. After all, he loved Jamie as all get-out.

He lifted my leg up and began to slide in and out my anus. I closed my eyes, let my head fall back, and began to moan to the long stroke. His other arm held me comfortably around the waist, the hand tickling one breast with the airiest brushes. He kept asking, playfully, if I was gonna move anymore and I kept answering, where I could, "No ...no." With all my happy, low groaning, I don't know if Dane actually heard words.

He pushed the leg he held over, rolling me onto my stomach, outta the robe sleeves. He pulled me to my knees, and really started fucking me up the ass. He pulled my cheeks wide, said spanking might be a no-no and, instead, pulled my arms behind me and slid out as far as he could then slammed deep into me. I was hardly catching a breath, at this point. I felt hot in the face, and everywhere else. It was rough, but Dane had started gentle, unlike all the insensitive creeps I've dated.

He pulled us back, till he was sitting and I was sitting on him. He let me put my feet on his thighs and lead at my own speed. I played with him by going slow and high, then sinking down and just sitting, flexing pelvis over trapped cock. Then, he pulled my legs up and took control, again. He jackhammered me, falling out once and having me set it back in the gaping hole he was drilling.

He asked me to get off him. I thought maybe he realized we might've gone a little too far. But, he only switched sitting arrangements. Now, I was seated on the couch and he stood over me. He spread my legs, cupping them in the crook of his arms, and steered his thick, springy cock into my cunt.

"No! you said the vagina was a deal-breaker!"

"I know, I know! I just want to show you something real quick."

He didn't have to, because I knew Dane worked out, and all that, but he lifted me up off the couch and began to bounce me high up his cock and plunge me to its base, without losing control of me, or hurting his back or arms. I almost lost my mind, on that meaty roller coaster ride, with the complete lack of control to do anything but strap my hands around his neck and let my hair fall all over my face. I could feel Dane's cock in my lungs. His grunts left his hot breath whipping my neck and chest.

I guess he finally tired of his show of strength. He put my butt back on the sofa, my ankles on his shoulders, braced my upper arms with his hands, and continued to dig up in my snatch. It was a slow, consistent groove. My feet on the sides of his face looked so funny. The navy pedi- looked good. His face would move in close to mine, and we stole little kissy nips. We were both breathing hard—he through his nose, me through parted lips.

"Oh, I love you ... fucking me," I moaned outta somewhere. Dane smiled or set his jaw, or something. I had been wet for awhile, but my skin was prickly, and I was drooling down there, spurting where possible. I let out a shudder and groan, and lost myself to whatever. Dane finally did, too. He pulled out and shot a thick, full stream just short of my open mouth. I had a milk moustache that went as far as up my left nostril. I pulled the cock in my mouth and drained it past the point of Dane's being able to keep standing.

I wiped off with the robe, while he dressed, then started to return to my room, to get ready. We three were supposed to have brunch then do a little diving.

"You play too much," I smiled, walking out.

"Youplay too much," he said, smacking my ass out the door.

We never played like that again, and I guess we never thought to tell Jamie, to see if it'd been okay, or be okay forallof us to play like that. But, I don't think she would care.—She's had us flash Dane many times. No big deal.—She knows she's my best friend. And, we're a pretty strong crew.

I'm very lucky.