Encounters with John Wayne Ch. 04bysurober1©
As if on cue, there was a knock on the door at the front of the suite, and a man's voice saying, "Room service, Mr. Wayne!"
John Wayne did not want to let go of Diana Maitland right at that moment, but he knew had to, so he sighed and released her. Then he stepped toward the bedroom door leading out to the front room and said loudly, "I'll be right there!" Then he looked back at her standing in the bathroom doorway fully wrapped in a large terrycloth robe and said, "Stay here, I'll be right back," then he turned and went out the bedroom door, closing it behind him.
Wayne checked his robe to be sure he was fully covered, and then opened the front door and stood back so the waiter could bring in a large covered platter, and he indicated to the waiter to place it on the table near the window. Then the waiter returned to his cart for the bottles of wine and tequila and took them to the table as well. Wayne took care of signing for the room service bill and tipped the waiter telling him that would be all he needed. As he closed the door, he placed the "Do Not Disturb" sign on the outer knob since he'd forgotten to do it when they first arrived (he'd had other things on his mind at that moment!).
Then Wayne went to the bedroom door to open it and let Diana know it was safe to come out. She was standing in front of the dresser mirror toweling her damp hair and running her fingers through it to try and get out some of the tangles. She looked at him and said, "My hair is such a mess now that it's gotten wet, and I don't have a brush or comb with me!"
He smiled at her as he moved toward her and said, "You look beautiful with your hair tousled like that, and I like knowing how it got all messed up! Please leave it that way...for me?" He looked at her with a hot, pleading gaze as he took the towel from her hand and put her hand in his to lead her out to where the food was.
She smiled at him and said, "OK, but you don't realize what you're asking of me. It will take me forever to get the knots out if I let it stay this way for long!"
Then he said, "All right, after we've eaten I'll find you a comb and I'll help you get the tangles out. But right now, I'm starving so let's eat!"
He led her to the table and sat her in one of the chairs, then lifted the lid on the platter to show her what he'd ordered. She saw the plates of sandwiches with potato salad, and her mouth watered slightly; she hadn't realized how hungry she was as well. Then she saw the strawberries and cream, and she smiled, wondering if he'd had the same idea that just popped into her mind when he ordered them. She looked up at him and saw that he had the same smile and look in his eyes as she, and she realized that they really did think a lot alike!
She widened her smile and said softly, "Boy, I can't wait for dessert!"
"Neither can I," he said in his sexy, gravelly voice, with his eyes smoldering. Then he took a quick, deep breath and said, "But first, let's take care of the hunger in our stomachs. Dig in!"
He took the bottle of red wine and opened it with the corkscrew that the waiter had also thoughtfully brought with it, and poured them each a glass. As he opened the wine and poured it, she took the sandwich plates off the platter and placed them on the table with the napkins and utensils that were also on the tray, then set the bowl of strawberries and cream to the side of the table and moved the platter out of the way.
As he sat down opposite her and handed her a glass of wine, he held his glass up as if to make a toast and waited for her to do the same. Then he said, "To the most enjoyable couple of hours I have ever spent, with hopes of many more to come..." looking at her with his smoldering eyes again.
"Here, here," she replied, her eyes mirroring his as they clinked their glasses and then each took a drink of wine.
As they started to eat, she noticed the bottle of tequila also sitting on the table and she remembered she had read somewhere that it was reportedly his favorite drink, so she commented, "Ah, I see the reports were true about tequila being your favorite drink."
He glanced at her as he was getting ready to take a bite of potato salad, and asked, "What reports?" then put the bite in his mouth and chewed as he waited for her reply.
"Oh, you know, all the Entertainment papers always write whatever little personal tidbits they can find out about big celebrities. And, of course, I always read everything I can about you. But don't worry; I don't believe everything I read! I can usually tell what's believable and what's not." She picked up a section of her Club sandwich and took a bite, noting that he had a thoughtful look on his face as she had answered him.
He was thinking that it wasn't fair that she already had a complete background on him and seemed to know him so well when he didn't really know anything about her. So he said softly, "Diana, you know so much about me, but I know nothing about you, and I really would like to know more than just the fact that you've fantasized about me your whole adult life and that your body responds to me like no other woman I've ever known!"
She almost choked on a sip of wine when he said that last part. As she wiped her mouth with her napkin and looked at him, she asked, "Just how much do you really want to know about me?"
"Whatever you want to tell me," he said honestly.
As they continued their meal, she started to give him as brief a summary of her life's story as she could. She told him that she was originally from the east coast, the youngest of 5 children, and moved to California when she was 20 with dreams of becoming a movie star herself. But, after she'd gotten here and started reading about all the problems with being famous and not being able to lead a "normal life," she'd decided that it wasn't what she wanted to do. So, she opted for a job that would keep her in the background of the movie industry, which suited her just fine. She'd been working for the studio for almost 8 years now, and for her current boss about 2 years, working her way up from a lowly props mistress to various other jobs, finally to her current position as administrative assistant to an executive producer. "And that's about it," she stated.
He sat back in his chair with his glass of wine for a moment and looked at her, wondering why she hadn't really given him very many personal details and his curiosity was piqued, so he would just have to ask her himself. He took a drink, then sat forward and put his glass down to continue eating.
He asked about her family first. Her mother and father were still living in Virginia, as were all her siblings and their children; three brothers, one sister, three nieces and one nephew; and a slew of aunts, uncles and cousins all scattered around eastern Virginia and North Carolina. Now he realized where her slight southern accent came from.
Then he asked about her education. She graduated from high school but did not seek any further education since she had planned to be a movie star and didn't feel it was necessary. She had taken drama and was in the drama club and choir in high school, which was how she got bitten by the "acting bug." She had done mostly musicals, but liked dramatic plays as well. He was surprised when she said she'd been in the choir and had done musicals; he would have to remember to ask her if she would sing for him later.
Then he asked the question that had really been burning in his mind, "What about boyfriends? I remember you said you've dated, but has there ever been anyone serious?"
She picked up her wine glass and brought it to her mouth as she glanced at him and said, "Yes," just before she took a sip. She lowered her eyes for a moment contemplating what to tell him, and then decided she should probably be honest with him. What could she possibly tell him at this point that would shock him? Well, maybe she wouldn't tell him everything...
As she looked back at his face, she could see he had a questioning look in his eyes hoping she would elaborate on that last statement. She smiled slightly, set her glass on the table and leaned back in her chair. She inhaled deeply, and stared into his eyes as she slowly exhaled, then said, "Once. About 5 years ago, I met a man who, though he didn't quite resemble you physically, seemed to have the same qualities that have always struck me most deeply about you—the commanding presence, the piercing eyes, the low, sexy voice. He was several years older than me, and reasonably handsome, and when he asked me out, I jumped at the chance hoping that, since I could never have 'the real thing,' that maybe he would turn out to be close enough for me." She saw his eyebrows raise and heard his slight chuckle in amusement when she had said she could never have "the real thing."
She chuckled too, and said, "Little did I know..." then went on with her story. "I made the mistake of telling him on one of our first dates that I had always fantasized about you, and that he reminded me of you in some ways. Every time we were together after that, he would ask me all kinds of questions about what it was that I liked so much about you, and I took that as his being interested in me and 'my quirks.' I didn't realize it at the time, but he had started incorporating everything I told him that fascinated me about you into his personality, and I ended up falling in love with him, thinking he was definitely close enough to the 'real thing' for me."
Taking another deep breath, she continued, "Any way, once I fell for him, he didn't have any problem getting me into bed, and the fact that I was a virgin didn't faze him in the least. In fact, he was all too happy to be the first man to fuck me. As it turned out, that was all he wanted from me." He frowned, and she looked away from him and stared out the window as she told him the rest. "You see, he has this thing about virgins, he gets off on wooing them into finally giving in, but then, once he fucks them, then they're no longer a virgin and, therefore, no longer desirable to him." She'd started to frown, too, remembering the pain she had felt when she learned the truth.
She didn't see the flash of rage that came over his face as she told him that last part. He had felt his anger start to rise when he heard what the no-good son-of-bitch had done to her. He thought about demanding that she tell him the man's name so he could hunt the bastard down and beat the shit out of him! But, he realized that would do her no good; it had happened 5 years ago and she, for the most part, seemed to have gotten past it. He would never have known she had gone through such an ordeal if she hadn't told him, because she was such a confident woman now. He was also a little shaken at his emotional reaction to the thought of her being hurt so cruelly.
When she finally looked back at him, she could see a faint look of pain on his face, and she immediately started to regret having told him this episode of her life. She said, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have told you any of this."
He immediately chastised her, "Diana, stop. I asked you a question and you answered it. But, what I really want to know now is have you told me everything?"
She hesitated, then said, "I've told you more than I intended to."
He knew she was holding something back, so he placed his arms on the table and reached his hands toward her, and in a soft, but demanding, voice, said, "Tell me the rest."
She couldn't resist the tender look on his face and the command in his voice. She placed her hands in his, closed her eyes for a moment to gather her courage, then opened them and stared into his eyes as she recounted her life for the past few years. She admitted that the pain of that man's deception had wounded her to a point that had caused her to withdraw from any sort of social life for almost a year. But, she had gradually started to realize what a bastard he was and that she had allowed him to use her. She also realized that she was strong enough to survive that. However, because of that experience, her trust in her ability to judge men, in general, had been severely affected, and she was afraid to let herself be that vulnerable to a man ever again. Because of that, she had started to use men only for her own sexual pleasure, but only when she really needed it, because she had learned how to pleasure herself, so she didn't need a man very often.
"But, sometimes, I just need to get fucked," she stated flatly. She had been watching his face while she told him the sordid truth about her personal life, but this time, she could not read his thoughts at all. She just hoped that he would not think less of her because she had just admitted to him that she had fucked different men from time to time over the last few years for no reason other than that she just needed it.
What he saw on her face as she told him all this was that she seemed devoid of any emotions, like she had just flipped a switch off somewhere inside herself. He wondered why at first, and then it dawned on him as soon as she said that sometimes she just need to get fucked. That was all she knew; all her experiences with men involved her getting "fucked"—she'd never had a man make love to her. She'd said it herself when that first bastard had used her, that "he'd been only too happy to be the first man to fuck her."
She still had a stoic look on her face as she stared back at him, and he asked her softly, "Diana, have you ever had a man make love to you rather than just fuck you?"
Slowly, she started to smile and the warmth came back into her eyes as she realized he wasn't going to hold her sordid past against her, and she said, "Yes...you have...three times now in reality, and thousands of times in my fantasies."
He frowned and his head jerked in surprise at her first comments, but as he started thinking about everything he had done and felt during those first three encounters, he realized she was right. Their uncontrollable lust for each other seems to be rife with other emotions as well, or they would not be so focused on each other's pleasure so much as their own. He smiled as he started to realize, again, just how insightful she was, and he said, "I, somehow, manage to keep underestimating you, little girl. But, one of these times, I'm going to show you what I have traditionally considered the proper way to make love to a woman." His eyes were smoldering again and his thumbs were tracing soft circles on the backs of her hands as he was still holding onto them.
The look in his eyes instantly ignited the fire between her legs again, and as she stared back at him, she said breathlessly, "You make love to me every time you look at me...your eyes set my body on fire; you make love to me every time to speak to me...your voice echoes in my soul; you make love to me every time you touch me...my body screams for you to take me in any way that you want!" She was literally shaking from the feelings that were pouring out of her.
The look on her face and the emotion in her words, had his dick springing instantly back to life, as he had relaxed somewhat during their meal and her life's story, which had temporarily taken his mind off the constant feelings of lust. As soon as she had said those last words, he abruptly stood up, pulling her up as well, and around the table to crush her against him, kissing her with a passion that was beyond anything they had felt thus far.
Their hands were everywhere on each other; tugging their robes open to feel their bodies mold together; his big, hard dick was mashed against her lower abdomen. She moved to his left side slightly and reached her left hand down to stroke his thick shaft and massage his huge balls, moaning into his mouth the same way as he was moaning into hers. His hands were roaming over her back and ass, and he reached down with his right hand to slide it over her ass and between her legs to lift her left thigh so he could stroke his fingers in her dripping pussy.
"Ooohhh...!" she moaned as her head fell backward and her mouth lost contact with his when his fingers reached her clit.
With her head hanging back, he took the opportunity to lower his head to her neck and plant lingering kisses and licks with his tongue on the sensitive areas below her ear and at the curve of her neck and shoulder.
"Oh, my God..." she muttered, as a shudder went through her body at the magic that his fingers in her pussy and his mouth on her neck were creating for her.
She involuntarily tightened her grip on his cock, and he groaned as he lifted his head from her neck to look at her just as she started to lift her head. The looks on their faces, again, mirrored each other...he needed to be inside her as much as she needed him to be.
He pushed the robe off her shoulders and it fell to the floor, and she did the same to his robe, then he reached down and lifted her up with her legs around his waist again and walked to the counter of the small kitchenette area just across from the table they had been sitting at. It was at just the right height to support her. He set her ass on the edge of the counter and drew her legs up and open with his arms to widen her pussy as much as possible for his thick shaft. They both watched as he positioned the bulbous head at her opening, then he slowly moved his hips forward to push his monstrous cock into her tight, wet pussy. It didn't slide in quite as easily this time because it was a different angle, but she was slowly stretching to accommodate his size, and the tightness just enhanced the sensations for them even more.
When he was fully inside her, they looked up into each other's eyes, and both knew they were thinking and feeling the same thing...they wished they could stay like this forever...joined—mind, body and soul.
He brought his hands up to her face, and she braced her legs at his sides; she brought her hands up to his shoulders, then slid them to the back of his neck as he bent down to kiss her. It was a tender kiss, their lips exploring each other's; then, at the same moment, their lips parted and he started moving his tongue in and out of her mouth at the same instant that he started moving his cock in and out of her.
It was slow and languorous at first, both of them savoring the sensation of every inch of his thick cock gliding slowly in and out of her dripping pussy, making those slow "squishing" noises that sound so sexy. He would pull back until the head was just at her opening, and then push forward until he was completely buried in her again, pausing for a second or two to grind his hips a little harder and rub his pubic mound on her clit. He knew that worked for her because it was what he had done the first time, and this time he could hear her groan deep in her throat each time her clit was stimulated.
As their kiss grew in intensity, so did his thrusting, until they finally had to just grab each other and hold on as their bodies took over and they fucked each other to, what seemed like, their most explosive orgasms yet again, both of them moaning loudly. They knew the physical reality of these orgasms were probably not as intense as they felt, but the emotional releases they were getting were way better.
They stayed in the same position for a few minutes as their breathing returned to normal; they were tightly embraced with their arms locked around each other, her legs wrapped around his hips, and his cock still buried in her. He finally lifted his head from her shoulder to look at her face, and he saw the same expressions of awe and wonder that he also felt each time they fucked. He started to fear that this...awesome passion they seemed to have for each other was never going to fade...
He brought his right hand up to brush her hair back from her face and was about to suggest that they go clean themselves up a little and think about having "dessert," when he felt a mass of tangles. Boy, she hadn't been kidding when she told him it would get worse. He smiled at her and said, "I guess you weren't kidding about your hair being a mess if you didn't comb it out."