The Night before the Awards

Faye Evans, an A-List actress, was mingling with producers, directors, and other actors in the VIP area of Bar Ocean, the trendy hangout of the top stars.

She accepted a tall flute of champers from a waiter and sipped it while discussing potential winners at tomorrow’s awards ceremony. She was being heavily tipped for her role as a female lawyer fighting for woman’s rights. Faye was far too busy playing the room to notice she had been the only one to accept from his tray; apparently an actor never truly is their self.

Faye drank again from her flute while continuing to gain favour with her upper-class society chums just as the same waiter brushed past to collect an empty glass.

Faye’s nostrils flared, a strong musky smell filled her airwaves.

Her initial response was one of distaste but she soon found herself inhaling deeply to try to get more, as the waiter moved away as did the now wonderful smell.

Composing herself she found herself annoyed she had let her focus slip even for a second. She did allow herself the occasional glance, or sniff, to find the source of her distraction.

It was not long before it was back, strong as the waiter passed before drifting.  

She excused herself and walked towards the toilets and hot on the trail of the aroma. She never got there. Instead, she found herself allowing a man to grip her arm and gently guide her — no panic or objection as the now familiar smell filled her — to a door at the rear of the room. He stepped forward to open the door and Faye saw it was the waiter who’d handed her the glass of champagne but, truthfully she knew it was him from his smell, she could taste him.

Eagerly she followed into a dimly lit stairwell, she was suddenly aware of how much she was smiling. She had her full coordination but was utterly focused on him.

“What are we doing out here?” she asked the waiter, surprised by her breathlessness and the purr in her tone.

“Shut up.”

His snapped words were icy cold as he removed the waiter’s jacket and draped it over the rail of the stairs.

How dare you talk to me like that. Do you know who I am? She waited for his response — before realising she’d only thought the words, that they’d never left her mouth. She was still smiling and not a big silver screen smile, a smile that she was sure looked unflattering in every way.

“I bet you’re wondering what’s happening,” he said and she nodded. “Do you remember an early sci-fi movie where you were trying to stop aliens that could control people’s minds?”

She nodded again.

“Well, it kind of has the properties of that movie… only it’s me who has control.” He laughed and she saw his stained teeth. “The drink you were happy to take helped. It’s awoken a primal need deep inside your brain; paired with a fragrance I was happy to expose you to, just three strong cheap aftershaves I bet you have never even heard of, mixed together. It’s actually quite revolting but I wanted to make sure no one would easily replicate it”

Gripping her arm again, he led her down the stairs. “If we get stopped, I’m Mike your fabulous boyfriend and I’m taking you home, everything is fine. Understand? Okay?”

Faye wished she could stop smiling and nodding.

The two large black guys at the back door watched as they walked past and into the alley. His grip was lighter but he still guided her movements in the direction of a black van parked on the far side of the street.

The cold air hit her. She’d left her jacket in the club and her blue Gucci dress was out of place in this alley. The van door slid open and two young men — one black, the other white —sat in the back. The white guy moved to the front and started the engine.

“Mind that pretty head.” The guy holding her arm moved a hand above her head and helped her into the van. He got in beside her and, as she went to sit, he pulled her onto his lap and she happily settled onto him.

“You’ve done it, Mike. You actually got Faye Evans… Faye Evans is sitting in this van.”

The two young men were obviously excited. Still smiling, she looked around the van.

“We went to a lot of trouble for you, Miss Evans,” said Mike and she looked down at him from her elevated position in his lap. “There's a big market for you in our industry.”

He laughed and the other two joined in.

“You see, we’re in the film industry as well, but it’s more of an adult theme.” His arms were around her waist. “We think you’ll be perfect as our main star.”

She wanted to yell, I’m Faye Evans, I was classically trained in England and now I’m a massive blockbuster actress — but nothing escaped her lips.

She was aware of being manipulated and knew she should feel scared. But even that feeling was being stolen from her as she leaned into his neck, her fingers unbuttoned his collar to expose more, her face rested on him and she drank in the smell again.

The van pulled into a small warehouse. When the door slid open, she saw a small, tatty film set.

“Out.”

Mike pushed her from his lap and toward the door where the black guy held out a hand to help her down. She reluctantly moved, missing his smell and now touch, feeling a bond with him, she did as she was told. Her arm now back in Mike’s grip she felt herself become happier, he walked her to the set and two other men emerged from the back.

“Holly shit, it’s Faye Evans.”

“No way… Wow, she’s like so much hotter in real life.”

Mike moved her forward until she was at arm's length. “She certainly is. Now get into positions, we haven’t got long.” He looked at the black guy. “Get organised,” he ordered and the guy hurried off to one side.

“So, Faye, let’s go through the scene. You’re a housewife alone in your big house when a young black stud comes to the door. You’re hungry, you’re horny, you want him. You’re oozing sexual desire”

Still smiling, she nodded as he brought his hand to her face, snuggling her nose over his wrist, her hands holding it in place adoring the scent.

“You see, I’m giving you permission to act this scene. You want to fuck this black dude for the camera, for me! You’re the best actress and very professional, so you want to make it good. For me!” he let her inhale again before pulling away.

She nodded disappointed he had moved. Maybe he would come back if she pleased him.

“Positions everyone.” Suddenly she was in character.

Faye stood in the middle of the crap set as the crew moved into their positions

“Action!”

The professional in her took over. The set was now a real living room, the cameras were no longer there, and she was alone and horny. She sat on the worn couch feeling neglected and unloved by her husband. She felt so frustrated.

At the sound of a buzzer, she imagined it was a doorbell; she stood from the couch and hurried to the door. She opened it and there stood the black man.

“Hi,” she said. As her hands played with the edge of the door, she used her stunning figure still in the expensive dress to provoke and tease.

“Hi, I’ve just moved in and was wondering if I could borrow some sugar?”

“Of course, come in… please do come in.” She grasped his arm and led him into the living room and sat next to him. “I’m Faye.”

“Cut.”

Mike stood from his director’s chair and marched over the smell followed. “Faye honey, you’re doing great but I think you should be called Precious Stone. That will suit your new career direction.”

She nodded yet again. Happy that he seemed pleased with her as she watched him return to his chair to watch her, giving her the chance to please him through her art, to do it for him.

“Action.”

She held out a hand. “I’m Precious… Precious Stone.”

“Willy Brown.” He smiled “Big Ol Willy Brown”

They shook hands and she slid along the couch toward him. “So, you like the neighbourhood? You have very friendly neighbours here?”

“Yea, it’s nice. Do you live alone?”

“Oh no, my husband is at work. He won't be back for a while.”

“And you’re all alone in this big house.”

“Well, you’re here to keep me company now. Tell me, do you prefer Mr Brown or Big Ol Willy?”

She lifted her hand to his cheek and moved in. Her porcelain skin and red lips contrasted with his dark flesh as she kissed him softly. He returned the kiss and she slowly skimmed his lips with her tongue. He opened his mouth, his large lips gently sucking her long but slim tongue.

Soon, he lifted her onto his knee and continued to kiss her, his tongue now inside her mouth. She sucked him as he squeezed her tits over her very expensive dress. In seconds, she pulled the dress over her head.

Faye spent a lot of time in the gym and watching her diet for her body to be just as she liked it. She knew the black guy liked it too as she felt his cock rising against her.

He bent to kiss a nipple and soon most of the breast was sucked into his mouth. She held the back of his head in her arms, burying his face into her chest.

A hand eased between her legs and she obliged by opening her thighs wider and he rubbed the black underwear before pulling them to one side and stabbing at her pussy. Moving her to lie beside him on the couch, he dragged her panties down her long smooth legs. Looking into her face, he held the pants to his face and inhaled deeply before tossing the garment onto the arm of the couch.

Diving between her thighs, he sucked her clit, before licking from the bottom to the top of her pussy slit. Faye felt her juices flowing with every pass and his tongue spread her wetness. He then sucked her clit again before running his tongue around it in a figure-eight motion — over and over again. Oh, heaven! She relaxed, settling back to enjoy it.

“Fuck, baby, that’s so good.”

“You taste so sweet,” came his muffled reply.

Squeezing her tits, she dug her heels into his back and wriggled with him, aware of the growing pace towards climax.

“Baby.” She put her hands on his shaven head. “Oh, baby…yes, you’re doing it, baby.” She pressed her thumbs onto the back of his head. “I’m cumming baby, yes, that’s it.”

She shuddered, bucked, twitched, and sank back into the couch, instinctively pushing away his head and swishing tongue. Taking a deep breath, she sat on the edge of the sofa and lightly encouraged him to stand in front of her.

She cheekily looked up at him while unbuckling his belt and unzipping his trousers. As she drew them down his legs, he whipped the shirt over his head.

She blinked as she held the biggest cock she’d ever seen.

“Fuck, I guess we will go with Big Ol Willy,” she laughed and kissed him before placing the semi-hard cock in her mouth. Thankfully, it didn’t get much longer — but it did get fatter and she struggled to get all of the huge cock in her mouth.

Swiftly, he moved her into a kneeling position with her stomach against the arm of the couch She clutched the loose and warm material of the couch, ignoring the many stains of previous scenes, bracing herself as he moved behind her. She thought about the size of his cock, about the size of her pussy, about the pain. She heard the lid of a bottle being snapped shut, the sound of liquid being rubbed into skin.

“Doing great baby, remember Precious Stone is the best in her profession” she heard Mike say as Willy pressed against her. She thought of Mike and relaxed as he leaned over her back and probed her opening with his thick cock she felt the lube on his cock.

She felt him enter her. Slowly, like there was another option to hand his size. Slipping in more, slowing again then sliding deeper. Fully in character, her body accepted him, she was horny and eager.

“Fuck me, get it right up inside my pussy, baby.” She said but thankful he had not given her it all.

She bit her shoulder as she looked around at him, her lipstick marking her pale skin.

“Ol Willy going to fuck you good, you’re so fucking tight white gal.”

“How’s that married pussy feel?” she asked.

“Tight”

He built a rhythm, his thrusts becoming deeper, but she knew he hadn’t given her his full length. She was relieved about that — his girth was greater than she’d ever experienced. She was nervous but eager to press on.

His grip tightened on her hips as he pounded into her and she reached down for his balls. “Are you going to empty these big black balls deep inside my tight white pussy, baby?”

“Oh fuck, yeah.”

With a hand on her lower back, he pressed her down as he slid further inside her dripping stretched pussy. He smacked her ass several times and she played along with a little teasing moan.

“I like to see your white ass turn red as I fuck you.”

He slapped her again and she tugged his balls digging her nails in.

“Fuck, you’re a real horny white slut aren’t you?”

He pressed down and she felt her full weight on the arm, her stomach pressing onto the worn fabric as she spilled over the edge, her hands on the floor as he continued to pump her, her palms pushing back on the dirty dull wooden floor.

She held her arms straight, trying to relieve some of the pressure from her stomach, as he continued to slam into her pussy but without supplying his full length.

Material suddenly covered her face. She realised he was pushing her panties into her face. “Smell them,” he ordered.

She tried to be as sexy as possible.  “Oh, baby,” she gasped, “I smell so good. You make me smell good. They are so soaked and so delicious.”

Suddenly, he began to lose rhythm and she knew he was close. “Fill me, fuck that married white pussy before my husband comes home.”

She was worldly enough to know he loved her dirty talk.

“Where you want that cum baby,” she toyed.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

“On my tits?”

He went harder.

“On my pretty little face?”

“In you,” he grunted

“Ok, Cum in my married cheating pussy” she cried out.

His thrusts slowed but went deeper, and his cum erupted into her as she watched her panties drop onto the cheap dirty rug. Faye was relieved when he eventually pulled away and she could move back to sit on the couch.

She reached for her dress as he put on his shirt and picked up his trousers. Shrugging into the dress, she heard,  “How about that sugar I came for, baby?”

“I’ll just get it,” she said.

“And cut,” yelled director Mike. “Good, could have been better — but still very good.”

Mike moved towards them. “Look Faye, I need you to sign this form.” His smell again—delicious.

Taking the clipboard and pen, she signed her name on the release paperwork.

“Good Girl, Oh, over the page, too.” She felt so good when he called her his good girl.

She turned over and a contract for another twenty movies was underneath. She signed on the dotted line.

“At tomorrow’s awards, when you win — as we all know you will — it might be the right time to tell everyone about your Precious Stone alter ego and your future film ambitions.”

She nodded and he smiled.

“When you’re about to give your acceptance speech will be a good time.”

As she stepped back into her panties, she nodded that she understood his instructions.

“Great,” he said, adding, “Oh Faye, baby, you’re going to make us so much money.”

“I prefer Precious, Mr Director slash lover.”

He looked surprised before he and the whole crew laughed.

"Very Well Miss Stone," he allowed her to sniff him as she cuddled her.

"Did I do good baby, it was all for you lover?"

"You did great" she smiled as she cuddled into him and his smell.

“Very well, Miss Stone, very well. He allowed her to cuddle him.