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It kind of started going wrong for Annette when Alfredo yanked down his shorts and revealed shaved balls. Chests she understood. Armpits even. All the local men were hairless, deep bronze and lithe; all six packs and sleek muscle. That she understood. But the balls thing. Yeesh.
With a soft creak of raffia, Annette shifted in the “Emmanuelle” chair- which ironically was not that comfortable on a bare bottom – and a Mediterranean breeze rolled across the hotel’s private terrace, kissing her nipples taut. Alfredo posed in the sun, naked but for mirror shades; his thick, lacily veined member rigid as a tree trunk and entirely brown. Just like his ass. He must have been swimming butt-naked in the lagoons even before he could walk.
Despite the Hollywood balls, and the dumbass aviators, Annette’s mouth watered.
He squeezed his jewels in one meaty fist. “You like,” he rumbled.
All things considered, she supposed she did. She hooked her leg over the arm of the chair, lifted her husband’s smartphone, and started filming.
#
“Good girl!” Gregor licked his lips at the screen later that afternoon, sitting in the same chair on the terrace. Tinny gasps and moans filled the silence between them and, on the little screen, the back of Alfredo’s brillo-pad head nuzzled between Annette’s spread thighs.
She was pretty pleased how the video turned out. It wasn’t up to Gregor’s multi-Oscar winning standards but the light was astonishing and she was still quite buff from filming Wondergirl. Annette was her worst critic, but reckoned she looked as good as she ever did in his movies. Her blonde bob bleached by the sun and her fresh-faced features all sex-blushed. And Alfredo, well, shaven or not, he was…
“Cumshot?” Gregor was already winding it on to the end. Her heart sank. She had tried to do all her husband’s favourite hardcore things and had sincerely climaxed three times, each time staring into the camera, panting “Gregor.”
“He came twice,” she said.
“Twice? Ha!” Gregor’s eyes shone, “not every day he gets to fuck a film-star, eh?”
“I don’t like that word, darling.”
“Nothing wrong with being a film-star- Christ you’re not shitting me. The kid cums like the Trevi fountain!”
“He was very keen.”
“And look at you girl! He really taste that good?”
“Gregor!”
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
“Son-of-a-bitch! I didn’t do it for… I did it for you.” She swiped at the phone and he snatched it away, cackling.
“Doll, I ain’t complaining.”
“So you forgive me, we’re quits, now?”
A soft knock had him heaving his bulk out of the chair. “Room service at fucking last,” he gasped, slipping the smartphone into his suit pocket. “You’ve already eaten, it seems.”
“And you believe me now?” She trailed him to the door, ignoring the veiled insult. “That bursa eskort I love you? Not her? Not anyone else?”
Gregor flung open the door and bellowed at a waiting maid, “Couldn’t be slower if you…”
The maid was sobbing already and, in one trembling hand, held a knife. “Motherfuckers!” she screeched and lunged at Gregor, he leapt backwards with startling grace. The belligerent woman – black curls crazed and for some reason in stocking feet – charged into their suite. “Where she! Where is whore who fuck my husband! You!” She jabbed at the air. “Fucking Wondergirl! Where it is?”
She clearly didn’t care that the hotel’s dainty maid’s outfit – not to mention her almond-eyed, petite stature – kind of undermined her scariness. Even the knife she brandished was some sort of ornate butter knife. Gregor and Annette had their hands in the air as if it was a shotgun, anyway.
“Give me!” She shrieked again, and for several long moments they all stood in freaked out silence. “The film you take! Of Alfredo!”
Gregor pulled out the phone. Surprisingly his hands trembled. Seriously? He was scared of this… kitten? The maid frowned. “Is on this? Prove it, fat man.”
Gregor fiddled, held the screen up and Annette’s voice cried out from the speaker. The maid’s eyes widened, and she flumped in a heap, tears popping from her eyes and the knife dropping from her limp fist. Annette didn’t know whether to flee from her or cuddle her.
Gregor tiptoed past, laying the screen, still playing, in her lap. “I’m just… Going down to the bar,” he said. “Doll? She takes this? Our deal is off. You know what I’m saying?”
Annette’s jaw dropped as he skulked away, closing the door softly behind him.
The maid sat drooped over the screen. Annette didn’t know what to do, so she knelt beside the slumped woman. Meanwhile her video alter-ego puffed louder as – squatting on Alfredo’s face – she started to climax. At the time the position seemed appropriate, minimal contact. Just her sex pressed to his mouth. Now – watching it with Alfredo’s wife – it looked obscene. Even worse. Overcome and trembling, Annette lifted her hips off his face, filming her explicit reflection in his mirror shades… and dripping on them.
Alfredo’s wife sniffed. “Why you do this?” she whispered, “take my man. You Wondergirl, you have it all. Why you take Alfredo too?” On the screen, Alfredo wriggled under Annette’s legs, took her hips and lowered her – still quivering like a racehorse – onto his bucking member. There was nothing Annette could say next to that. Everything would be a lie set against the deeply satisfied moan she made as the maid’s husband completely filled her.
“Turn it off,” Annette said, thumbing a tear from her own eye. “Please.”
The maid spun and glowered. “What? You don’t like? Watch, bitch. Watch bursa escort bayan with my eyes.” She thumped Annette’s breast. “Feel my pain.”
“It wasn’t my idea.” Annette screwed her eyes. “I love Gregor. He asked me do this, to prove it.”
The maid slapped her forehead and implored the heavens.
On screen, Alfredo growled and Annette whimpered, hands clawing his hard abs and sliding up and down his cock with her ‘minimal contact’ frog-crouch, mouth gaping. “You don’t understand,” she said. “I told him I would do anything to show my love. This is what he wanted.”
The maid wiped her cheeks on her sleeve. At least being confounded had dried her eyes. “But,” She shook her head as if from a daze, “Why you need to prove this? You Wondergirl!”
“Please stop calling me that.”
“Alfredo never ask me this. To fuck someone.” She waved at the screen to prove her point, but the ramming of her husband’s hips, hard, up into Annette’s stiffening body kind of confused things. The maid tutted and went to stop the video.
“Wait,” Annette said.
“What?” The maid’s voice rose an octave, “You like this, you want to watch now?”
“Listen! Listen!”
Her sex-taped-self huffed and shuddered; Alfredo pounded relentlessly, tirelessly. Annette threw back her head and howled at the sky. “Yes, Yes, YES! GREGOOOR!”
“See?” Annette said. “Just for Gregor. I was thinking about him the whole time I…”
The maid shut off the screen, and gripped the camera in a fist. Annette tingled with the expectation of being bludgeoned with it. The maid went to stand up. “I keep this,” she said.
“No!” Annette gripped the woman’s wrist. “Please. Let me give it back to Gregor. He won’t forgive me without it. I promise you, no-one will ever see it.” The maid shook her head, waved her away and stood. Annette stayed on her knees. All the better for begging.
“You don’t understand. I did something wrong, and this is what he wanted. To make it right.”
The maid pursed her lips and crossed her arms, tapping her fingers. Annette took this as permission to explain.
“I was away, filming a costume drama, last week. When I’m filming, Gregor and I, we make video calls. Intimate ones.”
“Intimate. Mean sexy, yes?”
“Yes. He likes to see me. In my costumes. I… you know.”
“Wondergirl. Polite talk, now. Is insulting.”
“I pleasure myself. In costume, on the webcam. For him. For us. We both like it.”
The maid shrugged.
“So this time. I was in my trailer, on the camera, in my Victorian underwear, you know like corset and stockings and… well just that… and doing… it. And my co-star—”
“Sophia deRey, yes I read about film you make. Cowboy whore film.”
“Yes, well. The next day we had to do a love scene, Sophia and I. And Sophia, görükle escort she’s a lesbian – so she was ok with it – but I’m not and she promised we could spend some time getting, like, comfortable with each other before the scene.”
The maid rolled her hand, but her eyes were rapt and glittering.
“Ok. So she never knocks. She just waltzes into my trailer and sees me and thinks I’m doing this for her. I mean, I’m standing in front of my laptop, stroking my ass for Gregor and I like, freak. I turn off the camera in a panic, and she starts kissing my butt cheeks and it feels so hot, then she bends me over this chair and… you know.”
“She eat you?”
“Umm yes, and it kind of gets me going. I mean she is very, very good and somehow a woman, down there? I never knew, it’s way better than a man, especially when the woman is this movie legend like Sophia. I mean imagine, looking down between your legs, at your rudest place, and there is this beautiful film star doing the rudest… Anyway. So I do her too. Just so I can see what it’s like. You know, acting? it’s all about life experiences, so I take these opportunities when they come.”
The maid rolled her eyes. “I know this,” she said.
“So we spent quite some time… getting comfortable…” Annette sighed. “But…”
The maid grimaced. “Camera not off?”
“No.”
“Husband see every thing.”
“Yes.”
The maid blinked and shook her head. When she wasn’t cursing and weeping, she was a beautiful woman. An olive skinned Natalie Wood, maybe. She pulled out Gregor’s phone, and placed it to her lips, tapping one foot lightly.
Sensing a change of heart, Annette tried to keep her mouth shut and lowered her gaze. She found herself staring at the maid’s stockings. The outfit was outrageous. With its short skirt and silly little white apron. Like a cartoon. She bet the hotel even made her wear suspenders.
“Where are your shoes?” Annette said, curiosity overwhelming her strategic silence.
The maid frowned at her foot. “Today I surprise Alfredo. I am very horny and want make a baby but he not even get hard for me. Even when he see i wear no panties!” She shot a finger at Annette who instantly regretted her question. “So. I throw shoes at him until he tells me truth. Then I run here.”
Annette opened her mouth to apologise again, but the woman held up her hand. “Your pig husband, he want phone.” She peered down her nose. “Then he forgive you?”
Annette nodded, “A power thing, that’s all. I love my husband. But he is a very odd man. We saw Alfredo on the beach. We both chose him. He seemed kind. And handsome. I didn’t know he was married. I swear.”
The maid slapped her thigh and growled. She paced the room, and then gasped, “So fucked-up.” and fiddled with the phone. “I email video to me. To torture Alfredo. You keep phone.”
Annette squirmed, she didn’t like the idea of someone having a video of her, but this was better than nothing. She smiled, nodded, and held out her hand.
The maid just smirked, turning on the camera. “And…” she said, pulling up her skirt. “Eat me. Wondergirl.”
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