“So I can smell your sweet pussy, Isabella?” Seth said as he sat back on
his bed. “You have the most perfect pussy I’d ever seen. I’d love to see more
of it.”
“Give me your phone,” I said, tucking a hair behind my head. He tossed me
his Blackberry. I put in my usual number, which was essentially a pre-recorded
message telling one night stands to fuck off. “Call me anytime.” The cab pulled
up and waved as I exited his tiny apartment. I barked out my address to the
cabbie and dialed my voicemail. Ugh,
Jacob. My WONDERFUL publicist. Do you
hear the sarcasm in my voice? I dialed his number, holding my phone to my
ear.
“It’s about fucking time, princess,” Jacob snarled. “I’ve been calling
you all fucking morning. Did you forget about our meeting?”
Meeting? What meeting? I don’t
remember a meeting… “Of course not, Jacob. My
workout went too long and I’m just getting out of the shower,” I lied smoothly.
“You’re such a bitch, Bella. You’re lying,” he huffed. “Who did you fuck?
What did you have? And can you get me some?”
“Who did I fuck? I think his name is Seth. I drank a shit ton of alcohol
and no, you can’t have any,” I snorted. “I’ll be at your office in an hour,
Jacob. I have to wash Seth away and have a cigarette. Or twenty.”
“Were you safe?” Jacob chided. “Your career is taking off and it would
look bad if you get pregnant or an STD.”
“Yes, Dad,” I deadpanned. “I may be a slut but I’m not stupid.”
“What the fuck ever, Bella. See you in an hour and dress respectable. As
much as I love your tits, I don’t want to see them. Well, I do but…never mind!”
he growled, hanging up the phone in my ear. I chuckled and put my iPhone into
my purse. Jacob wanted in my panties. But, I’d never let him. He’s too old.
Okay, he’s five years older than me. He’s almost thirty. That’s like ancient.
Tossing some money at the cabbie, I exited the taxi and sauntered into my
deluxe condo. My doorman, Paul, gave me a wave and tight smile. I can just
imagine what he’s thinking: what a
fucking whore… Yep, that’s me. I’m a whore who can’t keep my legs closed. I’m
a whore to my job, an actress, fucking whomever they want me to so I can have a
job, a part in the next big movie. I’m a whore to get my next fix. Who’s cock
do I have to suck to get some coke? But, who the fuck cares? Not me. I’m good
at what I do. The Golden Globe and Academy Award nominations are proof of that.
I just like to have fun. I’m professional on the job but once I’m away from the
studio, give me cocks, drugs, titties and alcohol. I’m a party girl and I’m
fucking proud of it.
I took a quick shower and
dressed in a pair of jeans and a tight tank top that displayed my cleavage.
Okay, half of my bra was hanging out and you could totally see my nipples on
the top of my bra. I braided my hair and put on my jewelry before scarfing down
some breakfast. I took a few ibuprofen and a ‘pick-me-up’ as I left my condo. I
eased into my Audi R8 and drove to Jacob’s office. Parking next to his sleek
Lexus, I headed up to his office on the top floor of the building.
No comments:
Post a Comment