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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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Archive name: agent09.txt (MF, cons, celeb)
Authors name: Carnage Jackson (carnagejackson@hotmail.com)
Story title : Journal of an Agent: Elizabeth Hurley
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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2002. This story
may be distributed freely, for commercial or non-
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Journal of an Agent: Chapter 9 - Elizabeth Hurley
By Carnage Jackson (carnagejackson@hotmail.com)
***
Stretching my legs out in front of me and yawning quietly
to myself, I settled in my seat for a long ride. I was
headed over to England to meet with Elizabeth Hurley
about landing a role in another film. Elizabeth was often
times called one of the most beautiful and most
photographed women in the world, and given the publicity
she received in the British tabloids, it was not hard to
see why. Some of the actresses I have dealt with while I
was out in Los Angeles, famous or not, have been major
bitches. They think that because they say two lines in
some low budget comedy, that they're the next Barbara
Streisand.
But that was what was unique about Elizabeth. Right after
I took over the firm, she called me up to introduce
herself and offer her condolences on my father's death.
Apparently she had been extremely close to my father (In
more ways than one, I'm sure). Since then, she had been
just like a long time friend, not being demanding at all
towards any acting or modeling work that came along.
More importantly, she always seemed like a down to Earth,
normal girl and I admired her free spirit attitude. She
knew that she was attractive and she knew that she was
famous, but it didn't seem to phase her in any way. That
made dealing with her extremely easy to deal with and on
a more personal level, made me like her as not only a
client but a friend.
The flight from LA to London was a long and tiring one so
I slept for most of the plane ride. When we finally
landed, I was amazed to see Elizabeth there waiting for
me at the terminal. She was dressed down so as to appear
like a normal person, wearing a beige sweater that hid
her curves for the most part, and a pair of semi-baggy
blue jeans. Her feet were inside a pair of ragged tennis
shoes and to top it all off, she had a blue baseball cap
on. Still, when I saw those soft blue eyes, I knew it was
her. I got my luggage and we walked out to her car (a
very nice silver BMW Z3) without incident, driving out of
the airport and back to her apartment in the upper rich
portion of London.
As we were approaching the gate to enter into the
building, a young girl came running up, gushing about
being a "huge fan and could she please have an
autograph". This was one of the few times I had ever seen
any of my clients handle their fans, but Elizabeth was
very cool about it. She smiled and made the autograph out
to the girl on a blank index card Elizabeth carried in
her purse. The bitter cold London wind almost blew the
card out of Elizabeth's hands, but my reflexes were too
quick and I caught it, as it was just about to slip away.
Handing it back to her, Elizabeth smiled and said thanks.
Making our way through the gate and up the stairs to her
loft, Elizabeth explained the index card.
"I adore my fans, but sometimes they are ill prepared. So
I carry a stack of blank index cards in my purse just in
case they don't have something they want signed," she
said, unlocking the door. This was a very kind and smart
idea and I was amazed that she would go to such lengths
for her fans.
I brought in my luggage and collapsed on the couch. Even
though it was only 11 in the morning, it felt like 4 AM
back on Los Angeles time. Despite the sleep I got on the
plane, I was still exhausted. Laying my head back on the
couch, I slowly began to drift off to sleep. Elizabeth
stood over me and smiled, leaning me back on to the couch
and propping my head on a pillow.
I awoke later that afternoon around 5. Sitting up, I
looked around. I could hear Elizabeth doing something in
the kitchen, probably fixing tea or a late afternoon
snack. I stood up and stretched, straightening out my
rumpled traveling clothes (a long sleeve shirt and a pair
of comfortable khaki pants) and slowly looked around
Elizabeth Hurley's apartment.
The living room area was quite spacious, with very high
ceilings that were supported by thick wooden beams. The
floor was also hard wood, covered in many places by very
thick Asian style rugs. The furniture was fairly sparse,
although very expensive, with only a coffee table and the
couch and a few floor lamps. I wondered how much of this
was hers and how much was Hugh Grant's, her former long
time boyfriend. Making my way into the kitchen, I could
see that Liz was preparing a delicious smelling tea.
Sitting down at the table, she walked over to serve me
the tea. I saw that she had showered and changed, and was
now wearing only a bathrobe. The robe was very elegant
looking, a light pink color with white trim around the
hems and cuffs.
We made chit chat over tea, talking about Hollywood and
relationships and what not. I told her of my past
involvement with Alyssa Milano, and like a sister, she
was very sympathetic.
"Dean, Alyssa is a sweet girl. I've spoken with her at a
few parties," Elizabeth said, sipping her tea. "But if
you are anything like your father, it will take a special
kind of woman to make you happy," she said with a smile.
After tea, we began discussing what had actually brought
me across the Atlantic: work. We spent over 5 hours
discussing scripts that I had brought with me. The
problem wasn't finding one she liked, it was finding one
she didn't like, and we both finally deciding on a comedy
with a still undetermined cast. I was cleaning up my
briefcase when Elizabeth got out of her chair and stood
up, a smile on her face.
"Let's go dancing," she said, her beautiful face coming
to life at the idea. Admittedly, I wasn't much of a
dancer, but I figured what the hell. I wasn't going to
pass up the chance to go watch Elizabeth get her groove
on.
"Sure, sounds good. You may want to change clothes
though," I said, referring to the bathrobe she was still
wearing. Glancing down, she laughed and said "Oh yes. I
don't think this would do at all. Give me 5 minutes to
change and we can head out,"
I went to the spare bedroom I was using for my stay to
change into something more club appropriate. I decided on
a pair of oversized blue jeans, tennis shoes and a gray
turtleneck sweater. Fixing my hair and adding a light bit
of cologne, I walked back out to the living room.
Elizabeth was standing in front of a wall mirror,
adjusting her earrings. She was wearing a glittering knee
length red dress, slit up the sides up to her calves. The
dress crisscrossed in the back with thin straps of
material, and the red accented her pale white skin
beautifully. Friend or not, it was tough not to realize
how absolutely beautiful she was inside of that dress.
Turning around to face me, Elizabeth smiled broadly and
adjusted the purse on her shoulder.
"Ready?" she asked.
I nodded, and we were out the door.
The club was located in the "hotspot" of London, which
was the old warehouse district. The club we were going
to, Rage, was in a converted fish processing plant. The
line was around the building when we pulled up and
parked, but this didn't even faze Elizabeth. Walking
directly up to the bouncer, she stood on her tiptoes and
gave him a kiss on the cheek. The bouncer, an enormous
black man, smiled and stepped aside, letting us in.
"Thanks Nick," I heard her say as we walked past.
Inside of Rage, the club was multi-level, with the bottom
floor being the bar area and the general dance floor, a
combination of hip-hop and some rock music playing
loudly. Following Liz, we walked up a winding flight of
stairs. The second floor had more of a techno music
atmosphere, with lots of people swaying and moving to
music blaring out of huge ceiling and wall mounted
speakers. Strobe lights illuminated everything, and
through the thick fog of cigarette smoke and dry ice I
could see lasers shooting by on the ceiling.
The third floor was very high up and much smaller than
the previous two, but it was much more intimate. There
were isolated areas for couples to go to and a private
bar with three bartenders.
Elizabeth walked over to say hello to some friends, so I
went to the bar and got us each a drink and found a booth
to sit in. Looking around, this part of the club seemed
very exclusive. There were lots of models, both male and
female, and I recognized a few British celebrities all
drinking and dancing and talking.
Elizabeth finally made her way back to my booth but it
was only for a second, as she grabbed my arm and pulled
me onto the dance floor.
The music playing was a loudly thumping beat by some
techno artist, and it was great music to dance to.
Elizabeth pulled me close to her and began to bump and
grind her body all up and down mine. Despite not liking
to dance, and not actually being very good at it, I think
I kept up fairly well. I was encouraged by seeing
Elizabeth's rhythm and pace pick up with me and soon the
rest of the club became a blur as I found my natural
groove and Elizabeth and I's bodies merged together in
dance, even if it was just for one song.
Over the next few hours, I made my way around the dance
floor, dancing with various models and women. All of them
were exceptionally beautiful and a couple seemed to take
an interest in me. But my mind was always elsewhere,
watching Elizabeth dance with nearly everyone. Dancing
was her natural element I could tell. Her body was so
rhythmic and graceful when she was on the floor, and she
looked like she couldn't be any happier than when she was
dancing.
As the night wore on, I had slowly drank myself into a
sizeable buzz. Looking down at my watch, I saw it was
almost 3 AM. I guess I hadn't noticed that the club was
starting to thin out a little. But Liz was still out
there, dancing like mad. Her hairspray had long lost it's
hold on her hair, and now her dark brown hair swung over
her shoulder as she danced, part of it sticking to her
forehead from the perspiration.
As the song ended, Elizabeth's dance partner, a tall well
built man with a chiseled chin, said his goodbyes and
made his way down the stairs from the club. Glancing
around, Elizabeth finally spied me sipping on my tenth
vodka of the night in the same booth I had occupied hours
earlier. I was very wasted at this point and was hoping
Elizabeth was coming over to get me to leave.
"Well, that was fun but I'm exhausted. Shall we go?"
Elizabeth said. I just finished my drink and smiled as we
headed out.
Elizabeth drove home since I was too intoxicated to do
so. At 4 AM, London is a very quiet and empty place.
Getting to her apartment and going in, I almost collapsed
onto the counter from having drank just one drink too
many. Elizabeth luckily caught me though and sat me down
into a chair by the kitchen table. The early morning
light was just starting to rise over the Thames I saw
when I glanced through a window in the kitchen.
"You need a shower to wake yourself up and make sure you
don't get a hangover," Elizabeth said, lifting me up and
helping me into the bathroom. She let go of me and began
running the water into the tub to warm it up for the
shower.
I was leaning up against the bathroom wall, when I
realized that Elizabeth was over estimating my condition.
I was groggy for sure, but I could have taken care of
myself. Ulterior motive or not, Elizabeth reached down
and lifted my shirt off and set it on the floor. She
couldn't help but run her hands along my modest six-pack
abs. I was about to protest, but then she began to
unbutton my jeans and slide them down. I suddenly
realized that I had a fairly sizeable erection inside my
boxers; right around the time she started to slide them
down.
I played it off like I was too drunk to notice, but it
still startled Elizabeth as she blushed slightly. Her
face and beautiful lips were a mere foot from my cock and
I couldn't do anything about it, for fear of blowing my
innocent act.
At first Elizabeth looked away and ignored it, focusing
instead on the hot water that was now steaming up the
bathroom. But she couldn't resist stealing another
glance, and it was this time that I decided I would take
charge. Making sure I caught her eye when she looked at
it again, I took her hand in mine and guided it to my
rock hard cock. Elizabeth never broke eye contact with me
while I did this. I almost died from pleasure when I felt
her small, soft hand wrap around my shaft instinctually.
Elizabeth had a sort of daze on her face during all this,
but she seemed to know what she was doing.
Still holding my dick in her hand, she used her other
free hand to slide down her dress. Her 36C breasts were
now just inches from me, and now it was her turn to take
my hand and guide it to her breasts. I wasted no time as
I began to tease and knead them with my palms, pinching
her nipple and pulling it out while I fondled her. Her
chest was now glistening in the light of the bathroom
from the moisture from the shower, and the sweat from the
club.
Elizabeth's hand meanwhile was slowly wanking me off, her
tempo keeping up with the rate in which I was pleasuring
her. I leaned my mouth down to her left nipple and
inhaled the sweet odor of her body as my tongue danced
all around her erect breast. Her nipples were a medium
pink shade and combined with her areolas, were fairly
small on such large breasts. However, they looked totally
in proportion with her body and made her look even more
beautiful.
Her red sequined dress continued to slide down her body
until it lay in a crumpled heap by my shirt and pants.
Elizabeth was wearing a see through black lace g-string
and I could see that she kept her pussy hair in a neatly
trimmed triangle.
I couldn't stand the anticipation any more, so I pulled
Elizabeth to me. Her hand left my dick and she wrapped
her arms around my shoulders as we began a deep embrace.
She grinded her pussy against my hard cock, and I could
feel the wiriness of her pubes through the thin material
of her underwear. The heat radiating in the room was
intense, so I decided to move it to the shower. Reaching
down with my thumb, I slid Elizabeth's panties off,
making sure my thumb brushed against her aroused and
exposed clit on the way down. She gasped softly into my
ear as I did this.
Moving my hand back up, I used one hand to guide her
backwards into the shower, following her right behind as
I stepped in. The water was a bit of a shock as it
splashed against our skin, little droplets sliding down
the contours of Elizabeth's naked body. Guiding my hard
shaft towards Elizabeth's hole, I pushed her back against
the shower wall. She shivered slightly as her body
adjusted to the cold tile, but this was just enough to
make her hips thrust up ever so slightly, and allow my
cock to slide into her.
She wasn't loose but she certainly wasn't tight as I sank
all of my meat into her. Her pussy was certainly
experienced, quivering as I pulled myself in and out of
her at a slow speed. I was now pressing my entire body
against her, as I slid in and out of her sweet, warm
cunt. Her chest was heaving from the steam and the
pleasure I was causing her.
Elizabeth dismounted me, but it was only for a brief
moment. She moved her leg onto the edge of the bathtub
and positioned herself spread eagle inside the shower. I
tilted her head back as I began to rock in and out of her
at a much faster pace, holding her head (her beautiful
hair was now dripping wet and hung as one big mass down
her back in between her shoulder blades) gently in my
hands to keep from hurting her.
"I've wanted you ever since we first met," Elizabeth said
to me as our bodies moved in unison.
"As have I," I replied, thrusting into her hard as I said
this. This triggered an orgasm inside of her, as I felt
her legs weaken for a moment and buckle as her body
convulsed in pleasure. I used this momentary pause to
reposition Liz in the shower. Now I turned her around and
pressed her against the wall of the showerhead, her legs
spread around the faucet. Using the weight of my body, I
held her against the wall, crushing her tits against the
slippery and wet tile wall. Elizabeth moaned as I once
again moved my cock inside of her.
Her hips were thrusting backwards, trying to milk my
prick for all it was worth. I felt like I could last
forever inside of Elizabeth Hurley. The strangeness of it
was that this didn't feel like just another meaningless
fuck. Like my relationship with Alyssa, I felt a bond and
connection with Elizabeth as I stood here making love to
her while she gyrated her body all around my cock. It
wasn't as deep a feeling as with Alyssa, but it was still
very intense. Like a true understanding; a true
friendship and love for each other.
The water from the shower turning colder shook me out of
my thoughts and I realized that I should speed things up
if I didn't want to lose "it" all together. I bent
Elizabeth over at the waist and put her hands at the
corners of the tub. Her ass was thrust out at me sexily
and I stood there for a moment, rubbing my dick head
against her ass and up and down her crack.
Finally, I just decided to thrust into her pussy once
more to savor the feeling. This caught Elizabeth off
guard even though we had just been fucking, and she
moaned loudly from the pleasure of feeling my 9-inch cock
inside of her. I fucked her furiously as she held onto
the sides of the tub. I felt my balls swelling with
sperm, and I grunted loudly as I released a long series
of hot streams of cum inside of Elizabeth's pussy. She
cried out as well as she orgasmed from the feeling of my
cum hitting her inner walls.
As my dick softened some, I pulled out of her and reached
down and shut off the water. We held each other as the
water dripped off. We toweled each other and kissed
passionately for a few minutes more before finally
calling it a night and climbing into bed, falling asleep
almost instantly in each other's arms.
I awoke a few hours later in the same position I had been
in when I fell into the bed with her. My cock had gotten
hard during my slumber, something not surprising since I
had it pressed against Elizabeth's soft belly and her
warm pussy. Elizabeth was still asleep in my arms,
breathing shallowly next to me. Her hair had fallen over
her left eye and as she laid there sleeping peacefully,
she looked like an angel.
I was about to try and get some more sleep, when
Elizabeth unconsciously moved in her sleep and my dick
slid down so that it was a few centimeters from the head
entering her. I lay there pondering if I should act on it
without waking her, or just ignore it. I chose the
former, and using my hand, I gently slid the head of my
prick inside of Elizabeth once more. She didn't seem to
notice as I worked more and more of my shaft inside of
her.
Her legs spread open slightly, giving me more access. Her
breathing became even more shallow and I could see that
my slow fucking of her must have been giving her good
dreams. Working slowly so as not to wake her up at all, I
began gliding in and out of her. The feeling was sheer
torture, as I couldn't speed up the pace no matter how
badly I wanted to. I cared for Elizabeth more than that.
After this agonizing fuck session, I could feel myself
building to another orgasm. Not wanting to come inside of
her without her knowing, I pulled out just as quietly as
I went in, and slowly jacked myself off until I came just
inches from her pussy, my cum squirting out and landing
in Elizabeth's belly button and some inside of her pubic
hair, dripping down to the moist slit of her cunt.
In her sleep, Elizabeth reached down and itched where my
cum landed, which really just served the purpose of
smearing it into her skin and pushing a small trickle
into her pussy. Watching this happen was enough to almost
get me hard again, but I decided not to push it and
pulled Elizabeth closer to me as I drifted off to sleep
once more.
*
I spent the next few days in London with Elizabeth. She
showed me all the usual tourist places, but also some
very unique and cool shops and museums that the average
person would never think to look in. Sadly however, the
day came when I had to return to Los Angeles and tackle
the mountain of celebrity problems waiting for me on my
desk. Elizabeth drove me to the airport and we kissed for
a moment before I boarded the plane and headed home. From
my window seat, I saw that Elizabeth waited by the
terminal until I was out of sight.
That's when I realized what my feelings really were
towards her: I loved her but I was not in love with her.
I loved her company and her friendship and especially her
body, but I did not have that deeper feeling and
connection with her that I had shared with Alyssa.
Pondering it some more, this didn't seem like a bad
thing. Elizabeth would always be there for advice on a
relationship, or a casual fling if I needed it.
Perhaps I just needed some time away to consider where I
wanted our relationship to go. I knew one thing: this
wouldn't be my last encounter with Elizabeth Hurley.
CHAPTER 10: Portia De Rossi
Thanks for reading! Send me feedback at:
carnagejackson@hotmail.com
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. You only have one body per lifetime,
so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Celebrity Archive