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xmag.com : January 2004: What's Your Fucking Problem?

I'm sitting at the edge of the bed wearing a thin clingy tee-shirt and panties. The director is coaching me on the next scene, speaking softly, very near my face. Right behind him, Eddie, the cameraman, has a small flashlight in his mouth while he peers into the black guts of a huge movie camera that stares ominously down at me. The sound and light crew are uncomfortably close. Coffee breath fills the cramped hotel room.

My hair is a perfect Hollywood mess, chunky, blonde and slept-in. It took two hours to make it that way. In the morning it'll look even better. Next to me on the big white bed holding a big white pillow sits George Clooney. He's wearing a suit.

"OK, George, you've knocked yourself out to get home to her. You're tired, road weary but so complete when you walk in. This is where you belong. You're done with the world, you're home. Demi, you're asleep.... you're expecting him, but you're relaxed. He comes in, undresses, gets into bed, he wakes you up kissing you. Wake up slowly, calm and comfortable, you make love and that's the scene. One shot. OK? Great."

George Clooney pats my leg. We smile at each other nervously.

"OK. George, outside. Get comfy in the bed, Demi. Good. Lights! Eddie, meter that. Good. Quiet... Roll sound."

A pale blue light washes over me. The tape rolls in a soft whir. I act asleep but I'm staring at my hands with my back to the camera, counting my breaths.

"Action. Cue George."

I hear the door open and close, a sigh, a brief silence around the white noise of the tape. Then the unmistakable sounds of clothes coming off: the whish of a shirt over his head, a belt's clink and slip, then the zip of a fly and pants flumping to the floor.

I focus on my breathing. George Clooney's in the bed over me. He rolls my body onto my back gently. His skin smells clean with a hint of last night's cologne and men's deodorant. I moan softly, acting sleepy and dreamily responding to his soft mouth. We kiss, familiar, nice. I smile while George Clooney, naked, presses my legs open with his and gives me a soft nudge with his.... acting.

Tongues now, hotter. I roll on top of him. He moves his hands down my body and hooks his fingers around the hip straps of my underwear and slides them down. I sit up on him and pull off my shirt, he pulls me back down to his mouth. Then it happens.

Suddenly I feel his cock pushing into me, solid, hot and slow. A curtain of hair hides my face from the big glass eye of the camera and everyone else in the room. My eyes pop at him and my mouth gapes in a silent "Huh?" George Clooney smiles that expensive well-whitened smile and breathes sweetly into my face and mouths the words, "Don't say anything."

We keep kissing and the Director, as if speaking for me, says "Good.... good.... Just like that."

I ride George Clooney's dick slowly, acting like I'm acting. He's holding my lower lip in his teeth and my hips in his hands grinding into me slowly and subtly. I whisper desperately that I'm about to cum and he smiles again and mouths the words "Do it." While the crazy, slow-motion blast stomps up my body, my brain screams, "I fucking love acting! What a great movie!!!"

I cum all over George Clooney. Hard. He's enjoying my acting and jabs his cock harder into my twitching wet puss, two, three times. His million dollar smile looks a little twisted and murderous.

"How do you wanna cum?" I whisper, barely audible over the rushing blood in my ears. "In your mouth."

I hop off and under the covers and suck George Clooney's cock as it pounds in its own skin spitting his load down my slick throat.

"WHOA WHOA WHOA! CUT! Lights! Come on you two, this is not that kind of movie!"

Through the blanket I see the white lights popping back on and I start laughing, wiping my mouth. I'm looking down at the spit-shined and bent cock of George Clooney, one foot from my face. I'm still laughing and wet when I wake up.

That's when I made my New Year's resolution. If I ever meet George Clooney, I will ask him if his cock has a distinct bend in the middle so, when it's hard, it markedly curves to his left, like it did in my dream. I'll also ask if he'd ever want to be in a movie with me.

Happy New Year, everyone, and may all your dreams come true.








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