Gold Leader Celeb Tails #13 : The End
The knock at the door came again and Goldie glanced nervously at it, “Just a second.”
I watched her quickly throw on a dress and try to fix the make up that had begun to smear while we screwed. She dabbed at her face, growing more anxious. She looked over at me, my soft dick hanging from my pants. She licked her lips lasciviously, before raising her gaze to my eyes. “How bad do I look?”
“You look excellent,” I told her. She didn’t seem quite satisfied with that answer so I added, “You can’t hide the glow of a good fuck.”
Her trademark laugh erupted from her body
and she decided that was enough, passing by me and giving me a kiss on the lips. Her hand stroked my slimy cock one last time before she left for her segment on “Live! With Regis and Kathie Lee.”
I put my dick away and slipped back into Pam’s room, sitting down right before she walked back into the dressing room. She looked at me with a big grin, “How’d I do?”
What would you do? That’s what I thought, no boy scouts reading these stories. I lied like crazy and she settled onto my lap, kissing me tenderly. I was sure the taste of Goldie’s pussy was on my lips, but Pam didn’t seem to mind or even notice, her tongue probing my mouth. She kissed up my forehead, remarking, “What have you been doing, you’re all sweaty?”
“Nothin’. I was watchin’ you on TV,” I told her. She looked at my face and laughed, her hand sliding down as she slithered off me and to the ground. Her hand massaged my cock through my pants, “Hon, not here.”
“Come on,” she said with a mischievous grin. “I just wanna suck your dick.
It’s a little tradition I have when I come on this show.”
Huh? A tradition of sucking dick when you visit Kathie Lee’s show? What the hell was that about? Before I could stop her, Pam’s long fingers wrapped around my sticky cock and she looked at me with shock. “Have you?”
I didn’t know what to say. I could lie again but what was the point, the proof was resting in her hand. Then she smiled coyly at me, “Did you get off hard when you were watching me?”
She thought I’d jacked off while she was on the show! Shit, I’ll take that lie. “I hit my chin, I came so hard.”
“Mmmmm, after I clean this off, I’ll check the rest of you for jiz,” she
said before slurping my dick into her mouth. As Pam blew me, I ran my
fingers through her soft blonde hair and stared up at the TV monitor,
admiring Goldie’s legs while she chatted with Reeg. You can imagine how I
blew my wad again.
Later that day, after stops at a few more shows, we returned to the hotel.
And then on to the benefit or awards show or whatever the hell it was. To
be honest, I didn’t pay much attention. There were women everywhere! And I
was backstage so much of the time, I was meeting all sorts of people. Tyra
passed by at one point, giving my ass a light pat. From behind me I heard in a nasally New York voice, “Oh my, if it isn’t the little stud of the universe.”
Hands slithered over my shoulders and down my chest and I heard Fran Drescher’s braying laugh in my ear. I turned around and she gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Then she took a step back and spun slowly, showing off her tight silver dress, with the plunging back line going to just above her ass crack. “You like?”
“Very sexy,” I told her. She laughed leaning in close to me and whispering that I better calm down, because she had a date so she couldn’t get laid tonight. “There’s always the bathroom.”
Fran glanced at a bathroom as if contemplating the idea. To be honest, I
would have been happy to nail her in the bathroom. What the hell. She
shook her head, “No, I’ve gotta go on stage in like ten minutes. Maybe we can at the party afterward.”
She gave my chest a long stroke and walked away, swaying that sweet tight butt for my benefit. I wasn’t distracted for too much longer before a long, lean body pressed against me from the side. I turned and Stephanie Seymour planted a deep kiss on my lips before asking me, “How’s it going, sexy?”
“Not bad. A little bored, but Pam asked me to hang out back here, rather than sit out in the audience,” I told her. Stephanie pushed me back toward a corner, her hand splaying over my crotch. Her lips brushed mine again and she smiled at me seductively.
“Think we could get together again tonight?”
“What about Tyra,” I asked, acting disappointed.
“I was hoping for some more personal attention from you,” she said with a pout. “Tyra’s gotten you twice already. Besides, I wanted to have you make love to me this time, not just fuck like a bunch of dogs in heat.”
“Come on, that was fun,” I told her, doing my best to ignore the kneading hand on my growing dick. Something seemed wrong to me. I was physically liking this, but at the same time, I felt creepy. Like I was a toy for these supermodels. A well loved toy, but a toy nonetheless.
“It was sexy, wasn’t it! I can’t remember the last time I got so thoroughly fucked in both holes.”
Behind us a shadow loomed and then a soft German accented voice followed, “Stephanie, are we going on soon?”
Stephanie wheeled around, pressing her ass against my now stiff cock. She flipped her hair back in my face, so I still couldn’t see who it was. “We’re on in a few. Chill.”
“Is this your new boyfriend?” the unseen woman asked.
I peeked around Stephanie and my crotch gave a new leap against that ass. Claudia Schiffer, wearing a low cut evening gown with her generous chest pouring out of it stood before us. I extended my hand immediately, “I’m Jeff.”
Claudia took my hand in hers, eyeing me as best as possible. “You are Stephanie’s boyfriend?”
“No,” I told her and I felt Stephanie pull away from my hard on. She moved away, turning some, pissed off.
“He’s Pam Anderson’s boyfriend.”
Claudia looked me up and down and shrugged. Thanks. At least I’m not
engaged to some fruit magician, I thought. They said good bye, Stephanie
giving me a definite cold shoulder. What the hell was that about? Was I
going to suddenly dump Pam for her? I think not. Pam returned from on
stage moments later, aglow. She took my hand and we headed off for the after show party.
The party was running slow and quite boring. Pam was mingling and I stuck with her for a bit but she seemed to become inundated with balding older men. Sorry, if I’m in a room full of celebrities, I’m not going to waste my time talking with Seymour Greenberg about his latest B movie. A pair of hands suddenly covered mine and a hyper, sweet voice said, “Guess who?”
I smelled deeply but there wasn’t anything registering. Hopefully it was someone I’d seen already. “Tyra?”
“Damn, boy, how’d you do that!”
I turned around, happy to see her smiling face. Beside her stood another supermodel but one of far lesser caliber than Tyra. Given the option, there wasn’t a choice, but Tyra introduced us anyway, “This is Cindy. Cindy, this is my friend Jeff. The one I told you about.”
Did she tell everybody? Good heavens the girl had a mouth on her. Was I a piece of meat? Anyway, I took Cindy’s hand, giving it a light kiss and told her it was a pleasure to meet her. I continued my line, asking her if she had any further movie plans. Cindy flipped her long brown hair back and paused for effect, before answering me in her mid-western accent. “I’m waiting for the right project.”
Yeah because that winner with the Baldwin brother was so amazing and obviously a smart career path. She then began to drone on and on about her career and her next show on E! and a multitude of other things. I’m not sure why, but I didn’t give a damn. And I wasn’t really faking it. At that moment, I didn’t even want to be there. Usually I meet these people and I’m so excited but at that moment I was even more bored talking to this overrated supermodel than if I’d been at home watching “Family Matters” reruns.
Then a bombshell hit me. No, Tyra didn’t smack me. Pam approached, whispering in my ear, “Can I talk to you?”
“Shoot,” I said. She acted like she wanted to move away and then I felt a new presence near us. A man. What was this?
She sensed him to because she sudden pulled away, acting as though we weren’t together. She turned away and I thought I imagined her next sentence, “Tommy, honey, I’ll be there in a sec.”
“Okay, Pammy,” a familiar voice responded. My heart about sank. That was her ex. What the hell was happening tonight? Was it a full fucking moon?
Pam pressed against me again, her lips close to my ear, “I’m sorry, but…”
I guess my body language told her how I felt, because her voice became softer. Trying to sooth the coming blow, I suppose. I cut her off though, “Don’t worry about it.”
She turned my face, and I hid my bitterness. Yeah I had fucked around and she had gotten some from other people too, but to lose her to a wife beating thug, heroin addict was a tad ego bruising. Still, she had made it clear during the past few weeks maybe I was not giving her enough attention. And I really didn’t love her, I was biding time with her because she was after all beautiful and one amazing lay. She pressed on though, “You can stay at the Malibu house for a few months because we’re gonna probably stay in New York for awhile or go to Hawaii. Okay? Jeff?”
“I’ve got to give it another shot. He’s cleaned up now. We just talked in the bathroom and he cried. How could I say no?”
“You couldn’t,” I told her. “Good luck.”
“Thank you,” she said, kissing my cheek. “It was fun, right?”
And with that Pam walked away to try her hand with the little drummer addict. Good luck, honey, cause guys like that only change when they die. If he couldn’t straighten out to keep her the first time, odds were good he’d fuck up again. Tyra must have sensed what had just happened because she turned from her conversation with Cindy, patting my arm. “You okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” I asked, annoyed.
“Good, I wouldn’t want to think you weren’t up for this party back at Claudia’s suite. Some people are dying to meet you.”
I nodded, feeling even cheaper. What the hell. I was a fuck toy! Cindy started droning on again about her career and I began looking to the exit doors. Screw this place. I needed to get out of there. Tyra suddenly pulled me out of the zoning I was doing by exclaiming, “MC!”
Tyra embraced some woman with light skin. Not white, but light. She had to have been mulatto or Puerto Rican. What a contrast to Tyra’s dark pallor.
On the woman’s wrist I saw a gold necklace wrapped around it like a bracelet
and a little golden butterfly hanging from the necklace. Could it be? I
knew of only one person with those initials who had a golden butterfly
necklace. She and Tyra released and then Tyra turned offering me, Mariah Carey. My heart dropped.
I’ve met and I’ve screwed many, many beautiful women but this woman was resplendent. Her long, straight hair perfectly framed her distinctive alluring facial features. Those round cheeks, the slight nose, that incredible smile, all right there in front of me. And of course the rest of her followed in a short dress. It was sleeveless, showing off her broad shoulders and shapely arms. The dress strap was thin at the top, wrapping around her neck and came down in two broadening strips which barely covered her breasts, but left a good portion of the inside of each bosom exposed as the material reached down further until connecting right above her belly button.
Of course the drama didn’t end there. No way, not with Mariah. The slinky, tight material clung to her flaring, sexy hips, reminding me why I love women so much. Between Mariah and Jennifer Lopez, I couldn’t decide who had sexier hips. But when it came to legs, Mariah won, hands down. Over everybody. And the dress stopped so high up on her thigh, it seemed unlikely she could sit without revealing everything. Those hard, muscled thighs, bare to the world, were almost completely revealed. My mind shifted to the “Honey” video and Mariah in that amazing bikini. Her legs tapered down over strong knees – I detest bony knees – then to those calves and ankles wrapped in thin stiletto high heels with straps winding their way up her lower leg. Even her exposed toes were getting my attention.
She offered her hand to me and I noticed for the first time the only flaw on this perfect creature, she’s got huge hands. I took her surprisingly large hand as she introduced herself in her deep Long Island accent, “I’m Mariah, and you are?”
“In heaven,” I told her kissing her hand. She tasted so sweet! I realized all eyes were on me at that moment, what with Mariah’s hand at my face and me completely caught up in her. I tried to cover I up, “I am surrounded by three of the most amazing women on the planet.”
I reluctantly released her hand and Tyra interjected, “As long as we remember who’s the most amazing.”
No doubt in my mind. I shot back instantly, “Or who has the biggest ego.”
Mariah eyes were on mine as everybody laughed, except for Tyra, of course.
She retorted, “When you got it, baby, you know you got it.”
“So what brings you to this party?” Mariah inquired of me.
“Limo? Did you hitchhike or something?”
“Smart ass,” Tyra said, poking me. “He came here as a guest of one of the presenters.”
Mariah nodded. “Were you that guy I saw backstage with Stephanie Seymour?”
“What was that guy doing?” I asked.
“Looked like he was getting’ some action,” she answered.
“Couldn’t have been me, I’m quite virginal. Took a vow. I’m actually here as the spiritual guide to Ms. Shirley MacClane.”
Tyra exploded in laughter, drawing everyone’s attention to herself. “And I’m white!”
The four of us continued talking and with each passing moment I felt more and more drawn to Mariah. I had always been a fan of her – not her music, but her physical form. It was a pleasant surprise to find she was quite engaging in person too. Sharp, witty and opinionated. I began to see hope in the night. Maybe I could find myself in the bed of one of America’s most popular stars. Pam was a big star, but she wasn’t known for being talented, nor admired by very many people. Mariah though. . .
“Well, I’ve got to hit the hay,” she suddenly announced and my hopes were dashed on the rocks again.
“You’re not coming to Claudia’s?” I blurted out. Mariah laughed.
“That’s not really my scene. Thanks for the invite though.”
Smooth, I just offended her by suggesting she was a slut like the others standing around me. Clothing notwithstanding, apparently some morals still existed in the industry. She hugged Tyra and Cindy good bye and then shocked me by giving me a long hug too. Not the kind of embrace I was looking for that evening but you take what you get.
“You live in LA, right?”
“Yeah,” I told her, shocked that she remembered.
“Give me your number and maybe we can get together for lunch the next time I
come out there,” she told me. You don’t need to ask twice, my dear. I gave
her mine and asked for hers but she laughed, “I’m everywhere. Trust me, let me call you.”
I watched her leave the room, amazed such magnificent beings walked the earth. Stephanie suddenly snuggled up beside me, whispering in my ear, “She doesn’t give it up too often. Her hubby and Derek Jeter are the only guys that have taken a dip in that honey.”
I ignored her. Let me dream. But she pressed on, “I heard Pam dumped you.
So, you’re free to come with us to Claudia’s.”
What got into me at that moment? I don’t know. But I certainly shocked her and Tyra and Cindy and everybody else within earshot when I told Stephanie, “I’d rather run my dick in a meat grinder than fuck you again. Got that?”
I left for the hotel, packed my stuff and took the next flight to LA. Did I
regret my answer? Maybe for a day or two but looking back it was the
beginning of getting away from a life that wasn’t leading me to happiness. I was through with screwing every star that passed my way. I didn’t want to just nail every beautiful woman I saw. I was actually envious of Pam when I spoke with her three weeks after she got back together with Tommy. They were still happy and he had actually encouraged her to get those damned implants removed.
A month after my dumping I was busy typing a screenplay on my laptop when the phone rang. I looked at it apprehensively. Some people hadn’t given up on me. Fran, Rebecca and Tyra seemed the most persistent. But Markie was a restraining order shy of turning into a full-blown stalker. She called all the time, leaving messages. She also emailed me naked pictures constantly, inviting me to another orgy or to her house or begging me for one more night.
It rang again. I decided what the hell. If it was Markie again, I’d get my cell phone number changed after the call. I grabbed the phone and it rang again impatiently. Depressing a button, I cringed and spoke, “Hello?”
“Jeff,” a deep, syrupy voice said. It was so soothing, I felt myself melting. Could it be?
“Yes?” I said, afraid it was some other random person I’d been with over the past few months.
“This is MC,” she said, the Long Island accent coming out clearly. The reason I hadn’t changed my cell phone number yet. “I’m in town. I was hoping we could have lunch.”