anonymous
10-25-2007, 04:17 PM
Standard Disclaimer:
If you are under the legal age for viewing pornography, you are breaking the law delete this now. This is just an erotic story, with not the slightest element of truth, or fact.
Although it is based on some real people and contains certain factual information. All actions, mannerisms, statements, and events are completely fictitious. Quotes and references that are based on fact are used only for creative purposes and are taken completely out of context. This is NOT to be taken seriously.
This is not meant to slander anyone's reputation. Pass the story on freely as you wish, but without alterations. No money is ever to be charged for this writing, not even AVS sites.
"It's just a fantasy. It's not the real thing." - Billy Joel
SHOWTIME - A Year In The Life
By Anonymous
(celeb, mf, ff, Fm, oral, anal, bondage, gangbang, molestation, tease, violence)
Starring; Bridget Fonda, Alyssa Milano, Winona Ryder, Jennie Garth, Sarah Michelle Geller, Jennifer-Love Hewitt, and Heather Locklear,
Supporting Cast; Holly-Marie Combs, Charisma Carpenter, Courtney-Thorne Smith, Natalie Portman, Shannen Dorherty, Meg Ryan
Special appearances by; Sigourney Weaver, Gwyneth Paltrow, Lea Thompson, Helen Hunt, Calista Flockhart, Lucy Liu, Lee Lee Sobieski, Anne Bancroft, Claire Danes, Lacey Chabert, Beverly Mitchell, Jessica Alba, Britney Spears, Christina Aguilera, Tiffany Amber-Theissen, and Maruschka Detmers
Special Guest Star; Teri Hatcher
The original Showtime-To Catch a Falling Star in ten parts is available at
http://www.c-s-s-a.com/index.html
If you have not already read the original ten parts (approx 200 pages total) I STRONGLY recommend you do so.
Note: This is addition to a brilliant classic written a year ago called SHOWTIME. About an ex CIA agent turned journalist, who through fate saves the lives of seven celebrities. Falling in love with each of them, eventually marrying one. He now works for them heading a company that protects the private lives of the rich and famous. His name is Steve Colt.
THIS STORY TAKES PLACE OVER JUST ONE DAY, BUT IT REFERS TO EVENTS IN THE PAST AND FUTURE IN THE SAME TENSE.
Showtime- A Year In the Life- PART 1
The silent rays of the morning sun filtered through the translucent curtains and pushed back the last dark spots in the room brightening the soft whiteness of the walls and the subtle amber of the carpet. For a few minutes neither body in the large king size Monarch bed with extra strength individually pocketed steel coils, and quilted top cushion moved an inch, well almost.
The man lying on his side facing away from the woman who had looped her leg over his waist, his eyelids fluttered the small white orbs beneath them rolling around in what his wife often referred to as the crystal ball between his shoulders, which had nothing to with any mystical talents. He felt as most men did an hour before they wanted to wake up an urge between his loins. He opened his eyes blinkingly, feeling his usual stiffness pushed his wife's leg back and got up to go pee.
Walking back into the bedroom feeling a good deal less pressure on his kidneys he stood by the bed, looking down at the remarkable creature that had become as his wife. The room was a good deal brighter now, and he could hear the birds beginning to chirp cheerfully in the cool air outside. As with all other women she had rolled over into warm spot on the bed that was his, normally he would just walk around to the other side of the room and climb back in on her side. But seeing his wife's lithe form curled around his pillow made him want to just watch her for a while. Kneeling by the side of the bed with his chin resting on the edge of the mattress he looked more like a dog than a husband. If he had a tail it would be wagging in slow lethargic sweeping motion.
Her short wavy blonde locks framing the calm gentle features of her face. Angelic was the word that came to mind, a picture of serenity. How he wanted this moment to last an eternity, instead of being relegated to the dusty attic of his memory, later he would have to struggle to retrieve it amid the jumble of other events long in the past. He often thought his wife looked best in her sleep she seemed so much at peace. Gazing down at the rest of her small, artistically formed frame he watched her chest rise and fall with each shallow breath.
Before he could finish reflecting on what she meant to him the spell was broken as her eyes flickered open. She was surprised by the sight of her husband sitting on the floor looking like a lovesick puppy. For a moment she was startled, "Morning." He whispered watching as she shook off her drowsiness and stretched the length of the bed. He smiled at her thin figure under the sheets having quickly worked off the extra forty pounds she had put on during her pregnancy. "Morning." She responded trying not to over power him with her breath. His smile was reassuring as always as he leaned over kissing her on the tip of her nose. She shifted over making space for him as he climbed back into bed reclaiming his side. Cuddling in close they hoped to steal a few minutes before the children woke up.
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" His wife pondered. Steve looked up from his whole grain-wheat toast. It was part of a low fat diet she had put him on to lower his cholesterol.
When he had his first physical in years, the doctor told him his cholesterol level was way up and that he was one plate of three cheese lasagna away from a heart attack.
He missed his starchy white bread, greasy breakfast sausages, runny eggs, and Canadian bacon. But like every woman, Bridget had married him for not the man he was, but the man she could turn him into. Like every husband Steve found himself being dragged sometimes kicking and screaming into his new lifestyle.
He didn't complain much, his wife was a graciously beautiful women, who had given him two wonderfully adorable daughters, he couldn't believe he was being paid to do the job they hired him to do, a six figure salary, hob knobbing with some of the most famous people in America. Did it get any better?
Could there possibly be a downside to all this? Well actually yes there was downside. That was he could never ever tell anyone, how he was fucking six of the most perfectly God created women in America. Which in it's self was penance for his sins, a burden that sometimes drove him to brief periods of utter madness. Steve knew that if the girls ever found out he had blabbed their tales for a few drinks in a seedy downtown bar, they would take everything he had, including the shirt off of his back, and the spare change out of his cup holder so to speak.
"I'm only going over there to give Alyssa moral support." Dropping the crust back onto his plate. "You know how messy these divorces can be, it's only one afternoon and once he gets all his stuff out of her house, Alyssa will be rid of him for good." Bridget put Calista, one of their fifteen-month old twins in the baby swing, the baby smiled and giggled as the rocking motion began. "I'm just going there to make sure he doesn't take the family silverware." Her blond sibling Katrina was pushing small pieces of toast around her tray occasionally eating a morsel. Bridget sat down at the kitchenette across from her husband, reaching for her coffee. "I'm just concerned about any trouble. You and Cinjun get along like heroin and coke." Wiping his mouth he gave her a reassuring smile. "I promise not to start anything." She gave him a look of sarcasm. "Uh-huh."
"You're still miffed about that little altercation with Heather's ex aren't you?" He whined. "Little? Steven you broke Tommy Lee's nose." Steve tried not to smile at the recollection of Tommy Lee kneeling on the floor cupping his bloodied face in agony screaming murder. Tommy had made a cheap grab for Heather at a concert and her husband Richie got in his face. After a brief scuffle which required their handlers to pull the two rockers off of each other Tommy made one last snide remark comparing Heather's sexual talents to that of a porn star, where upon Steve who was by this time standing between the two men, turned around and popped him like Ali popping Fraser. Later he did get a very nice thank you hug from Pamela Anderson for it, he wondered briefly if it was enough to get Heather and Pamie in the same bed. But quickly came to his senses.
"Besides I didn't start it." He continued. "And Scott Wolf?" She pressed. "That was self defense." He reminded her remembering the ugly incident at the 1998 New Years bash where Alyssa's ex-fiancé took a swing at him. Bridget had to give him that one.
"What about that rap singer you hit?" She added. "Who the Smarties guy with the yellow hair? He was molesting Jennifer." Steve protested. "His name was Eminem he's only the hottest rapper in the music business. You could have been more tactful." His wife corrected him. "Besides you've never hit anyone for touching my boobs." She reflected. "That's if I had any." Steve looked down at his wife's perfect chest. "I'm glad YOU said that. Besides that's what you get paid for anyway." He poked still insecure about other men touching his wife's chest in her films. She loved the way he squirmed watching other men touching her in her movies.
Eminem was at the VH1 fashion music awards where Jennifer was giving a presentation. Steve against his own wishes had the duty of chaperoning her, he hated today's hip-hip music, and he loathed fashion designers. He felt they were all a bunch of pretentious, copycat artists just reinventing the classics of the past with their usual warped twist for creative licensing.
Truth was he was out of his depth and never knew what to say to people who thought image wasn't just everything, but the only thing. Before the event he even boned up with a stack of fashion magazines trying to make sense of it all. Even spent a whole night with Natalie Portman, and Melissa Joan Hart watching MTV and the Fashion Channel. Steve was too ashamed to ask Love for help.
That night Jennifer was dressed in a white pantsuit very chic, and she looked gorgeous in it. The only thing wrong with this picture was that she wasn't wearing a bra, and if that wasn't bad enough in Steve's eyes Jennifer didn't have a blouse on either. The jacket was cut low revealing the sides of her unsupported boobs for anyone who cared to look, and look they did. When he begged her to put on a simple white shirt, Jennifer just told him the designer said specifically no top. Jennifer also argued that many of the models and actresses would probably be attired in similarly revealing outfits anyway. This seemed to placate his objections. "Well come on then we're going to be late." He piped up.
After the awards ceremony they gathered at a party with other rich snooty people, including some of the less desirable elements. Mr. Eminem was there with his usual hanger-ons hogging the malt liquor bar. Through out the evening he made a few attempts to attract Love's attention as she circulated amongst the guests. First by direct introduction, and when Love politely brushed him off after only two minutes, he started showing off by adlib rapping it up with other people.
As the night wore on Eminem was becoming more sauced and more belligerent, not just towards Jennifer but also to everyone in general. He even loosened off the word faggot a couple of times, and asked Jennifer rather loudly if she had a boob job. Jennifer for the most part was trying to ignore him, as were most of the other non-musicians at the party.
During this time Steve was preoccupied working the room like a whore drumming up new clients. Although Jennifer could see he was spending a little too much time with models, and all but forgetting designers, musicians etc.
As the crowd thinned out Jennifer was feeling beat and was ready to call it a night, just as soon as she could pry Steve away from Covergirl Carmen Cass. By now Eminem urged on by Dr. Dre had summoned the fortitude to be more brazen. Approaching Love with his Homie's looking on, he gave her that glazed over donut look and rudely thrust his hand inside her jacket. Now this was not entirely new to Jennifer a few guy's had groped her breasts before, they usually ended up limping away. Many times she had signed autographs for her adoring fans lots of guys tried to get a kiss on the side, the younger ones were usually easily dissuaded, but most of the dirty old men she almost had to mace.
Slim Dandy grabbed her left tit and squeezed so hard she cried out, "OOUUUUCH!" Although more from the shock that he had done it in such a public place than in pain. "Hey! Sure feels REAL to me!" He yelled over his shoulder to his chump's who were cracking up like college freshmen. Now having Jennifer cry out when Steve was within a five-mile radius is like lighting up the Bat signal while Bruce Wayne is standing on the rooftop.
Steve moved across the room like Oprah at a 5.99 all you can eat buffet. Eminem didn't see him coming, for like all men who stood in front of Love he became completely immersed in her beauty, despite the yells from his entourage who saw Steve charging at him like an Amtrak freight train, approaching a stalled Greyhound at a level crossing.
Jennifer pulled his hand off her chest and pushed him away just before Steve grabbed the young punk, and threw him against a handy nearby sea-ment pillar. He learned a long time ago never to hit anyone, especially when there was a hard surface nearby. "Stick to your own species!"
Steve turned his attention back to who was checking out her merchandise for damage. "You alright Love?" Jennifer looked up too late to warn him, as Eminem pulled out a pistol, and cracked it on the back of Steve's head. Luckily it was just as hard as the post Bridget would say afterwards.
People in the room who had already stopped talking were now crouching down on the floor like tigers, six foot models shrank to three feet and designers trying to hide behind them fearing the gun-totting dragon. Eminem was full of rage and fury screaming, how dare a white, geek, bitchin mutha fuck, put hands on him. He was waving his gun around like it was a rap video while the crowd hugged the ground. The rapper didn't even see Michael Clarke Duncan come up behind him, until the enormous actor picked the one-hundred-forty pound dirt bag off the floor in a crushing bear hug. The Green Mile man kept squeezing threatening to pop him like zit, then the gun bounced to the carpet then he dropped Em like a dirty needle.
Everyone started to breath at once, as security swooped in and handcuffed the groaning singer. "My ribs he broke one of my fuckin ribs." Steve was still lying face down on the floor oblivious to the world around him, Jennifer crouched a few feet away calling to him. "Steve? Wake up Steve." Love was almost trampled in the stamped of decadently sexy women rushing to see if her man was okay. He felt a wet cloth on his head as he opened his eyes looking up at Claudia Schiffer who was cradling his head in her lap, while Michael helped Jennifer to her feet.
"You should lie still that's quite a bump you have back there." The epitome of blonde bombshells cooed. He settled back a bit. "I-I do feel a bit light headed." He sighed staring up and over her huge bosom at Claudia's perfect features. It took him a couple of seconds to notice others gathering around, he resented their intrusion on the private moment he and Claudia were having. Then he picked Jennifer's face out of the crowd as she knelt down to check him out. At first she was worried that he might have a serious concussion, but upon seeing the absolute look of contentment on his face as he lay in the lap of ultimate luxuries, she nearly wanted to clock him one herself.
Sensing he was over staying his welcome Steve got up reassuring all that he was just fine.
Slim on the other hand was being dragged to his feet by two of the largest gay black men Steve had ever seen in his life. Attempting to lung at Steve while in restraints Em continued screaming foul derogatory remarks at him and Love. Calling her a washed up, untalented, big tit, whore.
Steve reacted appropriately. "If that's the best you can do, you're going to end up like that one day!" He yelled back pointing up at the ceiling. Eminem looked up to see what Steve was pointing at, as did everyone else in the room. By the time they looked back down. Slim was doubled over puking up Smoked salmon and Brie all over his Nike pumps. Steve was just standing there with his hands in his pockets whistling Dixie. He also learned that if you were going to hit someone, to aim for a soft spot, and don't let anyone see you. It was the first time that night the rapper had finally shut up, as he was dragged from the room by security.
Jennifer wrapped herself around Steve as they left the room with others looking on. The single guys in room crossed Jennifer Love Hewitt off of their to do list. Steve looked over to Michael giving him the thumbs up. The intimidating black actor broke out one of his famous white watermelon smiles. "You da Man!" Later Eminem was charged with carrying a concealed weapon, Steve and Love decided not to press charges of their own which would have created an unwanted media circus.
If it weren't for the four supermodels, and three actresses that signed up the following month the girls would have grilled his bacon real good. While Love was grateful to Steve she wished he would use a little more tact next time. "Fine I'll remember that when Ricky Martin molests you." He replied. "No, no, if Ricky Martin touches me, don't you dare do anything." Love bit back
The truth of the matter was that Jennifer Love was growing up fast, too fast for Steve's liking. She had already done a nude shower scene in Party of Five behind an almost transparent clear shower curtain, and he noticed a disturbing trend towards more exposure in her modeling photos. Even now there was talk about her going topless for her next movie called "Breakers" with Sigourney Weaver. "Steve they're just boobs and every women has them." Jennifer reasoned. "But I'm not ready to show them yet." He whined.
Steve was comforted a bit knowing Sigourney wouldn't let the director brow beat Love into taking off her clothes for the camera, unless she was ready for it. He liked being one of the handful of guys in the entire world to see Jennifer's breasts, he knew it was a lost cause, but hoped to enjoy the privilege for a little while longer at least. But he would be one of the few who had nuzzled his face between those huge puppies. Jennifer didn't tell him about the simulated oral sex scene, she didn't have the nerve, and was going to let it be a last minute surprise.
"I'm just glad that you and Eric get along so well." He pretended to cringe inwardly at the mention of his wife's ex-lover fellow actor Eric Stoltz. "Must you speakth his name in this house?" Her husband protested. She gaffed at his vain attempt of displeasure. "Besides I'm just waiting for and excuse, but the twerp won't give me one." Waving her teaspoon menacingly, she gave Steve a look letting him know if he messed with any of those cute freckles on her former boyfriends face then life would be over, as he knew it. But in her heart Bridget knew that would never happen, in fact she was a bit jealous that the two men were such good friends.
One time she even made a joke that they should of married each other. Both her guys stopped watching the game and looked at the women they so admired, and then Eric shook his head. "It wouldn't work, there'd be no one to get the beer." He cracked holding up an empty for her." Steve burst out laughing at the remark. She left the room giving her significant other a whack across the head with the empty. "Ouch!"
Waiting until a bit Steve turned his attention back to the tube. "I'm beginning to see why you didn't marry her after all, smart move." Not looking at his fellow antagonist he shrugged in agreement. "Yeah ducked that one." A loud bellow from down the hall startled both of them. "COMMENTS LIKE THAT! WILL NOT GET YOU INVITED BACK FOR DINNER!" Steve tilted his head back on the couch. "So what's your point?!"
Although his wife was a decent cook by average standards and she did do a mean brazed chicken breast in mushroom sauce, Steve was the undisputed king in the kitchen. The girls thought it was almost worth marrying him just for his culinary skills alone. He was teaching her just as much in the kitchen, as she was teaching him in the bedroom.
Bridget came back a minute later with fresh brewskis, for a second they though she was going to soak them. Steve popped the top only to have half his beer foam up and over the top of the can. "Aww shoot!" His wife gave him a smug look. Eric smiled giving Bridget a high-five. "Wait till you've been with her for as long as I was." He gestured opening his beer. Bridget stepped back as a fountain of white spray shot up to the ceiling and splashed back on Eric's red hair. Sitting in his own brew he turned to his ex-girlfriend. "Yep I should have expected that." She handed him the dishtowel hanging over her shoulder. "Gotcha!"
Eric shook the suds out of his hair putting the can down he looked sideways at Bridget's husband Steve saw a glint in his eye. But Bridget saw it too. "Oh no, no you don't!" She screamed running from the TV room as they bounced up and chased her through the house. It was then in her eagerness to escape their evil plans Bridget made the fatal mistake of dashing out the back door. Where the stunningly beautiful actress was captured, and summarily sentenced to being thrown in the sacrificial pool landing with a loud SPLOSH! While her foes danced around the deck victoriously like juvenile primates Bridget swam to the side and climbed out. "Hope you two big strong men are happy."
The two men gawked as she did a striptease for them, removing her halter-top and skirt. Both of them immediately noticed her hard nipples as small drops of water trickled down her exposed boobs as she squeezed them in her hands. Turning her back as she wrung out her clothes over her head, and sauntered back into the house, their gaze falling upon her wet transparent panty clad behind. "You little tramp!" Steve yelled as he nudged Eric out of his Déj* vu. Cheekily his wife gave them a sexy little wiggle just before she disappeared inside. They couldn't see the slight smile on her face.
Bridget often wondered if she could entice them into double penetrating her, she knew Eric would probably be game but Steve wouldn't be to fond of the idea, he'd have to be gently coaxed into going along with it. The idea of being sandwiched between them with her husband's cock filling her pussy while her ex-boyfriend fucked her up the ass was one she had fantasized about frequently.
Steve's question brought her mind back to the present. He got up putting his dishes in the sink. "You're okay about this aren't you? I mean Alyssa?" He asked timidly. Bridget smiled reassuringly. No one was happier when Alyssa announced her marriage than Bridget. It would give her a chance to form the basis of long lasting relationship with Steve, and get their family off on the right foot.
With Alyssa married it would hopefully bring the level of her and Steve's relationship down a notch or two. Hopefully she could transfer some of the strong passionate feelings to her own new husband. Bridget couldn't really deny that Alyssa's close affection for Steve didn't bother her that much, but it was something she learned to live with. The birth of their twin girls had given her the opportunity to forge and inseparable bond with Steve, which not even Alyssa could break.
After Bridget and Steve got married Alyssa began relating to Steve on a more cordial note. The last thing she wanted was to be known as a home wrecker. In this respect she and Bridget grew a little closer, while Steve wrestled to keep his emotions for Alyssa under wraps. Bridget lived with the knowledge that her husband's feelings for this other woman remained strong, lurking just beneath the surface simmering under a controlled flame. "I'm fine." She responded. Bridget appreciated her husband's efforts to show his loyalty to her. Which was tough at times considering they shared not only the same taste in women, but also the same women.
Draining his cup of Poisson berry tea he leaned over and gave her a warm hug his nostrils filling with her soothing scent. "Will you be home for dinner tonight?" She asked teasingly. "What are we having?" He challenged. "Meatloaf." Bridget answered in a sparing voice. He smiled "Over six figures a year, and we're having meatloaf?" She rewarded him with small laugh, "Gluttony is one of the seven deadly sins."
Steve gave her quick kiss on the top of her head, "So is what you did in bed last month with Jennifer." Bridget countered with a quick shove of her forearm. Steve knew he'd never have to worry about coming home and finding his wife in bed with another man.
Another women, well that was something else.
"Which reminds me don't for get to pick up your tuxedo." Steve made a face, like a boy
going to his sister's piano recital. "Awwww! Do I have to go?" It was awards month and they were going to the Oscar's. Bridget sneered at him. "Contractual obligations." Like them it was in his contract to go to such media events, and to be seen to promote the company.
In the last year Steve had been to more award shows that all of them together.
He had taken Sarah to the Peoples Choice Awards, Bridget to the Golden Globes, Jennifer to the fore mentioned VH1, Jennie to the MTV, Alyssa to Blockbuster, and Winona to the Oscars. Steve was what was known as a safe date. They had been seen so much with him in public there would be no gossip later on. But this year the champagne and glamour had worn off the only one he wanted to go to was the Golden Globes and that's because Bridget's father usually went. Bridget preferred to watch them on TV.
"And don't act like you won't enjoy it." Bridget badgered. He had to admit he didn't often get to see his girls dressed and preened like Superstars, and he did love being seen with them looking like Goddesses.
"Oh yeah! This is what I get sweat pants, frizzy hair, and no make up. While the rest of your fans get absolute perfection." Steve once whined while getting ready to take Sarah out. "The rest of my fans don't get blowjobs." Sarah reminded him. "Oh, okay I can live with that." He replied complacently.
"Besides I'd much rather spend an evening alone with my favorite actress." He cooed pulling her into his arms. Bridget just scoffed, "Oh that was a good one. But you still have to go." Her husband made a sour face.
Just then Katrina banged on her tray waving her arms to signal she was done with Breakfast. "Bah, bah, bah, bah." Steve released his daughter from the highchair and held her in his arms. "Ready for playtime?" He smiled half expecting an answer. Kat smiled back clapping her hands. "Bah, bah!" He loved his two little girls they got their looks from their mother thank goodness. Kat was showing signs of inheriting Bridget's adventurous streak, being the first one to discover the doggie door work just as well for her. Calista on the other hand liked to sit and watch things, she would do this long after her sister had gotten bored and started bouncing around the room.
Giving the little urchin a kiss as he handed her off to her Mother. "You sure you don't need me here today?" He inquired guiltily, as it was the nannies day off. "Nah Winona and Gwyneth are coming over to hang out." Steve perked up at the mention of her name. "Paltrow?" Bridget gave a slight nod. His wife looked up at him seeing the glimmer in his eye. "I've been thinking dear, you've been staying home a lot with the girls. Why don't you go out, and I'll baby sit today."
Bridget gave him a wiry grin. "I never thought I'd hear myself say this, but I'd rather you go to Alyssa's. I don't want you, Ben and Matt to have something to compare notes on." He stopped and tilted his head at an angle. "You and Gwyneth go back a ways. How come she never fixed you up with Matt?" Bridget frowned. "He's not my type." Her husband nodded. "I see, not good looking enough huh, or is it the lack of deep intelligent conversation?" He gloated.
"You know if your Dad, and Gwyenth's Mom Blythe had gotten together after making "Westworld" then theoretically I'd be married to her." He surmised. "Are you deluded or what?" Bridget challenged.
She was just about to lay in to him when the buzzer rang, "It's me!" Winona announced through the intercom. "Steve went over and pressed the talk button. "Sorry we don't need any magazine subscriptions!" He yelled back. "Winona honked the car horn. "Just open the #*ing gate Steve, or I'll give you a subscription!" Steve gave his wife a smile. "And when you ask the girls, where they heard that word from..." He hit the switch. "One these days…" Bridget muttered taking Kat upstairs to get changed.
Winona came through the back door a few minutes later. "Morning!" She chirped, dropping the morning paper on the table, he turned around from the kitchen counter and kissed her full on the lips. "Mmmggh! Where's Bridget?" Steve nodded to the ceiling. "Upstairs."
Winona squatted down to greet her Goddaughter Calista Winona, this gave Steve a nice looksie at her under rated cleavage, which throughout her career Winona had kept well hidden. Instinctively she could sense his gaze lingering on her bra-covered breasts as she leaned forward. "Take a picture it will last longer." She commented.
Six seconds later a flash went off over her head. "STEVE!" The culprit just stood there with a silly grin on his face. Winona stood up intent on doing him bodily injury. "Give me that camera!" She demanded. "Well you told me to…"
Bridget came in with Cali's sister, who let out a huge squeal upon seeing her auntie No-Ni. "What's all the yelling about?" She asked knowingly. "Bonehead here just took a picture of my boobs!!" Winona lashed out. Bridget looked at the camera her husband was holding just out of reach. "Well she said and I quote, take a picture it will last longer."
"Give me the film." Bridget ordered holding out a hand. "Do you mean the film in this camera, which still has your Birthday photos on it?" His wife frowned creating narrow little furrows across her forehead. "You still haven't developed those yet?" Steve took a small step back comforted with the knowledge that she wouldn't hit him while carrying one of their young-uns. "There was still a couple of frames left."
Bridget shook her head. "Can you see Winona's face in the photo?" He thought for a second. "Nope, only the top of her head, and her tits." Winona reached for the spatula.
"Well nobody should recognize you then." She tried to assure her friend. "Unless it a director or producer, cause you know from that angle..." Steve rambled. Winona almost flipped his face across the kitchen. "You …!" Only the presence of his wife and child save him. "I'll have the film developed and destroy the last frame." Bridget stated as he surrendered the film. "You watch your step buster."
Steve just made a face. "And to think I almost asked you to marry me." He shot back.
Winona took another swipe at him, "Oh Puleez… Like I would ever!!" Bridget handed her daughter to Winona. "Both of you… really I don't know why you two fight so much." She gave the baby a kiss. "It's so you won't suspect we're having an affair, right Spank boy." Steve checked the battery of his cell phone. "You got it Butt bunny." His wife just sat down ignoring their jibs.
Winona looked over at the 8X10 framed photo in the living room, which Steve had given his wife on her 36th Birthday. She was halfway through the pile small pile of gifts sitting in the sunroom, surrounded by family and friends when her Mom handed it to her. "It's from the family, but Steve picked it out." Turning to see where he was. "Is it returnable?"
She kidded. "So what did you finally get her?" Courtney asked him as they he watched full of suspense. It wasn't easy shopping for someone who had almost everything.
That's why the rich have jewelry worth more that most peoples houses. A case in point was when Liz Hurley caused a minor panic at an after Oscar Award party, when she lost a diamond bracelet valued at a quarter of a million dollars. Luckily for her Steve found it on the dance floor, as it was a loaner. Bridget was miffed with him for not pocketing the trinket, Steve placated her savage breast by claiming it would just detract from her loveliness. "I would have lived with it!" She replied cynically.
As she unwrapped his gift there was an audible gasp from those nearest to her. She looked into the flat box twice to make sure she wasn't seeing things. But no there it was, a framed family photo, nothing unusual she had seen one like it before, and remembered sitting for it a few months earlier. Except this one was now different, she still sat in the middle with her Mother each holding one of the twins, Dad stood behind her with Aunt Jane. But where Steve used to stand at the back in the middle, there was a man she hadn't seen in over three years.
Bridget started to cry as others leaned in for a closer look. Katrina who was sitting on Mommy's lap helping with the unwrapping tapped on the picture with her tiny hand.
"Gam-pa, Gam-pa!" The fifteen month old cooed. "That's right! It's Grandpa! And Nana, and your Great-Grandfather." Bridget hugged. She turned the frame around so others could see it.
Steve had gotten a recent photo of her Grandfather the late Henry Fonda, who had trod the same boards, chewed the same fat as legends like Robert Mitchum, John Wayne, Jimmie Stewart, and Rachel Welch. He had it superimposed into the existing picture.
It had taken a week of photo manipulation at a cost of a thousand dollars. The original was taken a few years before he died in 1997, and carefully blended in with the family portrait. In spite of Henry's long illustrious film career the hardest part was getting a compatible picture. Most were either to old, or unsuitable. That's when Aunt Jane contacted MGM, and obtained thousands of unedited shots from his last movie, "On Golden Pond." With the aid of Steven Spielberg's crackerjack special effect's staff he was able to get a believable likeness of all the Fonda's together. The switch of himself and Henry wasn't the only change, he had them make the picture softer more pastel like so that it resembled a painting rather that a photo.
Bridget deeply regretted that she had not had children before her Grandpa passed away. It was through his gentle indirect guidance, she had gone into acting and attended NYU. He had not urged her to take up the trade, nor had she caught it by watching his films, or her Dad's, or even Aunt Jane's.
Steve had joked in the past that she should do a remake of Jane Fonda's Barbarella Queen of the Universe. A sort of soft porn sci-fi made in the early Seventies. Bridget said one bad sci-fi in the family is enough. (Actually the film is being remade with Drew Barrymore this year.)
It was Henry who had taught his indeterminably shy young Granddaughter the art of painting. Her introduction to acting began by joining the school drama club to build, and paint sets. Indeed they had one of his watercolors hanging in the living room. Spending time with the theater group helped Bridget over coming her initial stage fright just enough to perform a small part as nurse Betty in a school production. It was a humble beginning to busy career. To this day Steve is constantly trying to get her back into that nurses uniform.
Bridget looked around to see where the guilty party had gone. "Where else in the kitchen." Her mother pointed. Although Steve had discussed it with her parents, he wasn't not a hundred percent sure how she would react to having her Grandpa resurrected, people can be very sensitive about things like that. Giving the present, and her urchin to others to pass around. She headed for the sanctuary of the kitchen where, Shannen, and Alyson were pouring coffee for everyone, and Steve was pretending not to be hiding.
Steve had been warned off Alyson when Sarah first introduced them on the set. It was for his own safety, as unknown to most people Alyson Hannigan far from being the awkwardly shy girl she played on Buffy, was quite the nymphomaniac. More than one young virile stagehand had ended up in hospital with a hernia, or slipped disc after going into her trailer. Steve had never gotten close enough to find out, although she did send him some dangerous signals now and then. Sarah said Alyson made Alyssa look like Mary Poppins, and she would break an old man like him in two.
The Witches left with a tray as his wife came in. "Hey you." She said casually. Steve shrugged like a kid not sure weather he was going to get the strap. "That was some Birthday surprise." She teased. "You like?" He inquired. A warm generous hug, filled with love was all he needed, to tell him the world was a wonderful place to be. "The best Birthday present ever!" She whispered. "Really? Huh I thought I'd wait till tonight before giving you that." He joked. She was about to reprimand him when Lea Thompson came in, or as Steve jokingly referred to her Princess Lea. "You two behave yourselves, no quickies in the kitchen."
Of all the actresses he thought Lea most closely resembled his own wife, in looks, and body. They could be sisters Lea had the same skin tone, cheekbones, pert nose, with small high breasts and a tight firm ass. Like Love she was a professionally schooled in the art of ballet. She was a few years older than Bridget, but she didn't look a day over thirty. His eyes flitted over her ski slope shaped breasts, and dropped to her flat tummy. Lea's slender waist made his own wife's seem big and all her girl parts were still in the right place.
They both had the same sparkling blue eyes. With the right hairstyles, and clothing, they could pass for twins themselves. Maybe that was just wishful thinking on his part. He made a note to ask Eric what Lea was like, inspirationally he wondered if Eric had been with both of them at the same time, and maybe Mary Stuart-Masterson too? "I don't think we can handle more kids today." Lea waved.
"Ya were not exactly short on twins around here today are we?" Bridget quipped. Outside Lea's six year-old twin girls were playing with Jane Seymour's four-year old twin boys. While inside Bridget's own twins were rug racing with not only Jennie's daughter, but also Lisa Kudrow's triplets. "No Jane, and I are thinking of starting a support group." Lea perked. "God know I need all the support I can get." Bridget exasperated. "You have me Dear." Steve offered. The two women exchanged glances knowing how useless husbands could become in childcare.
"The girls forgot the spoons." Lea stated. "I'll get them." Bridget turned. The shorthaired blonde came closer. "No it's okay, you're the Birthday girl." Uh-huh Steve could definitely see the resemblance. "In that drawer over there." Bridget pointed. "Help yourself." She added.
"Excuse me Steve." Lea smiled reaching around him. He moved out of her way but not before accidentally brushing up against her firm, apple size breasts. He felt Lea's semi-hard nipples through the thin material of her white shirt as they scrape across his chest. Not having big boobs meant that Lea could go able to go braless on certain days. Like today, as Steve discovered when she flashed him, instead she relied on a silk camisole to cover her chest, and a quality one it was judging by the embroidered neckline accenting her prominent nipples, which perched a top her well rounded pale skinned features. Steve then realized he was spending way too much time shopping for women's lingerie. Comparing their size to his wife's he judged they would fit nicely in his hand or mouth.
Lea captured him with her alluring fragrance. Moving on his palm also quite by accident swept by her buttocks. They were bed sheet tight not saggy at all, her legs extending from under the skirt looked to be well worked out. Lea felt his bulge press on her thigh she was impressed at his volume. The beast stirred within the confines of its lair awakened by the familiar aroma of its addiction. "Thanks for the dance." Lea joked as she made her was around him. "My pleasure Lea." As in the past Bridget ignored the childish flirtation. She knew it only enhanced her husband's appreciation for her. Besides Lea had also given her a treasure bag of cast offs for the twins.
As Bridget and Steve left to rejoin the others she couldn't help but ask. "What made you think of my Grandfather?" They entered the hallway. "Well when we started dating you talked about him a lot, watching his movies, and I got the impression you really missed not having him around. Especially now that we have the twins." He divulged putting an arm around her waist. "I wish you could have met him, he would have like you." She hugged "I know." He whispered. "And where did you get the idea to have the picture made anyway?" He answered with a sly smile. "I was surfing the Net looking for porno fakes of Alyssa."
In retrospect he would never of said that, if he had seen Lin coming down the stairs. Mrs. Milano gave no indication that she had overheard him sully her daughter's good name. But instead smiled friendly manner as she walked by. Bridget thumped him on the arm, which was a good deal less than what Alyssa was going to do to him when she found out.
She was so upset that Alyssa made him write a letter of apology to her mother. Or in her words Steve would be surfing the Web for the rest of his life, searching for nude fakes of her. "Because it would be the only place he would get see Alyssa's face attached to a naked body!" Sarah and Jennie looked on later that day as the little tyrant tore a strip off him wide enough to land a jumbo jet.
"Besides why do you want to look at fakes, when you have the real me?" She whined. "Well let's face it I'm never going to see you with huge kazongas pleasuring five guys at the same time." He winked teasingly. His Sexpot was stunned for a moment before making a come back of her own. "Oh I wouldn't be so sure about that." She fired back. Alyssa stormed out leaving Steve looking ashen. "She's joking right?" He asked the two blonde bombs, who were so cracked up they couldn't talk. "Don't even joke about that!!!" He yelled after her.
Incensed he turned on them. "By the way Sarah, if you're ever thinking about getting those puppies augmented." Nodding to her cleavage. "38 triple DD's would be way to big, and Jennie big and black is really not your color." Now it was his turn to leave with the upper hand, or in this case run. Three days later Lin called her daughter to say what a nice letter she had received from Steve.
End of Part 1
If you are under the legal age for viewing pornography, you are breaking the law delete this now. This is just an erotic story, with not the slightest element of truth, or fact.
Although it is based on some real people and contains certain factual information. All actions, mannerisms, statements, and events are completely fictitious. Quotes and references that are based on fact are used only for creative purposes and are taken completely out of context. This is NOT to be taken seriously.
This is not meant to slander anyone's reputation. Pass the story on freely as you wish, but without alterations. No money is ever to be charged for this writing, not even AVS sites.
"It's just a fantasy. It's not the real thing." - Billy Joel
SHOWTIME - A Year In The Life
By Anonymous
(celeb, mf, ff, Fm, oral, anal, bondage, gangbang, molestation, tease, violence)
Starring; Bridget Fonda, Alyssa Milano, Winona Ryder, Jennie Garth, Sarah Michelle Geller, Jennifer-Love Hewitt, and Heather Locklear,
Supporting Cast; Holly-Marie Combs, Charisma Carpenter, Courtney-Thorne Smith, Natalie Portman, Shannen Dorherty, Meg Ryan
Special appearances by; Sigourney Weaver, Gwyneth Paltrow, Lea Thompson, Helen Hunt, Calista Flockhart, Lucy Liu, Lee Lee Sobieski, Anne Bancroft, Claire Danes, Lacey Chabert, Beverly Mitchell, Jessica Alba, Britney Spears, Christina Aguilera, Tiffany Amber-Theissen, and Maruschka Detmers
Special Guest Star; Teri Hatcher
The original Showtime-To Catch a Falling Star in ten parts is available at
http://www.c-s-s-a.com/index.html
If you have not already read the original ten parts (approx 200 pages total) I STRONGLY recommend you do so.
Note: This is addition to a brilliant classic written a year ago called SHOWTIME. About an ex CIA agent turned journalist, who through fate saves the lives of seven celebrities. Falling in love with each of them, eventually marrying one. He now works for them heading a company that protects the private lives of the rich and famous. His name is Steve Colt.
THIS STORY TAKES PLACE OVER JUST ONE DAY, BUT IT REFERS TO EVENTS IN THE PAST AND FUTURE IN THE SAME TENSE.
Showtime- A Year In the Life- PART 1
The silent rays of the morning sun filtered through the translucent curtains and pushed back the last dark spots in the room brightening the soft whiteness of the walls and the subtle amber of the carpet. For a few minutes neither body in the large king size Monarch bed with extra strength individually pocketed steel coils, and quilted top cushion moved an inch, well almost.
The man lying on his side facing away from the woman who had looped her leg over his waist, his eyelids fluttered the small white orbs beneath them rolling around in what his wife often referred to as the crystal ball between his shoulders, which had nothing to with any mystical talents. He felt as most men did an hour before they wanted to wake up an urge between his loins. He opened his eyes blinkingly, feeling his usual stiffness pushed his wife's leg back and got up to go pee.
Walking back into the bedroom feeling a good deal less pressure on his kidneys he stood by the bed, looking down at the remarkable creature that had become as his wife. The room was a good deal brighter now, and he could hear the birds beginning to chirp cheerfully in the cool air outside. As with all other women she had rolled over into warm spot on the bed that was his, normally he would just walk around to the other side of the room and climb back in on her side. But seeing his wife's lithe form curled around his pillow made him want to just watch her for a while. Kneeling by the side of the bed with his chin resting on the edge of the mattress he looked more like a dog than a husband. If he had a tail it would be wagging in slow lethargic sweeping motion.
Her short wavy blonde locks framing the calm gentle features of her face. Angelic was the word that came to mind, a picture of serenity. How he wanted this moment to last an eternity, instead of being relegated to the dusty attic of his memory, later he would have to struggle to retrieve it amid the jumble of other events long in the past. He often thought his wife looked best in her sleep she seemed so much at peace. Gazing down at the rest of her small, artistically formed frame he watched her chest rise and fall with each shallow breath.
Before he could finish reflecting on what she meant to him the spell was broken as her eyes flickered open. She was surprised by the sight of her husband sitting on the floor looking like a lovesick puppy. For a moment she was startled, "Morning." He whispered watching as she shook off her drowsiness and stretched the length of the bed. He smiled at her thin figure under the sheets having quickly worked off the extra forty pounds she had put on during her pregnancy. "Morning." She responded trying not to over power him with her breath. His smile was reassuring as always as he leaned over kissing her on the tip of her nose. She shifted over making space for him as he climbed back into bed reclaiming his side. Cuddling in close they hoped to steal a few minutes before the children woke up.
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" His wife pondered. Steve looked up from his whole grain-wheat toast. It was part of a low fat diet she had put him on to lower his cholesterol.
When he had his first physical in years, the doctor told him his cholesterol level was way up and that he was one plate of three cheese lasagna away from a heart attack.
He missed his starchy white bread, greasy breakfast sausages, runny eggs, and Canadian bacon. But like every woman, Bridget had married him for not the man he was, but the man she could turn him into. Like every husband Steve found himself being dragged sometimes kicking and screaming into his new lifestyle.
He didn't complain much, his wife was a graciously beautiful women, who had given him two wonderfully adorable daughters, he couldn't believe he was being paid to do the job they hired him to do, a six figure salary, hob knobbing with some of the most famous people in America. Did it get any better?
Could there possibly be a downside to all this? Well actually yes there was downside. That was he could never ever tell anyone, how he was fucking six of the most perfectly God created women in America. Which in it's self was penance for his sins, a burden that sometimes drove him to brief periods of utter madness. Steve knew that if the girls ever found out he had blabbed their tales for a few drinks in a seedy downtown bar, they would take everything he had, including the shirt off of his back, and the spare change out of his cup holder so to speak.
"I'm only going over there to give Alyssa moral support." Dropping the crust back onto his plate. "You know how messy these divorces can be, it's only one afternoon and once he gets all his stuff out of her house, Alyssa will be rid of him for good." Bridget put Calista, one of their fifteen-month old twins in the baby swing, the baby smiled and giggled as the rocking motion began. "I'm just going there to make sure he doesn't take the family silverware." Her blond sibling Katrina was pushing small pieces of toast around her tray occasionally eating a morsel. Bridget sat down at the kitchenette across from her husband, reaching for her coffee. "I'm just concerned about any trouble. You and Cinjun get along like heroin and coke." Wiping his mouth he gave her a reassuring smile. "I promise not to start anything." She gave him a look of sarcasm. "Uh-huh."
"You're still miffed about that little altercation with Heather's ex aren't you?" He whined. "Little? Steven you broke Tommy Lee's nose." Steve tried not to smile at the recollection of Tommy Lee kneeling on the floor cupping his bloodied face in agony screaming murder. Tommy had made a cheap grab for Heather at a concert and her husband Richie got in his face. After a brief scuffle which required their handlers to pull the two rockers off of each other Tommy made one last snide remark comparing Heather's sexual talents to that of a porn star, where upon Steve who was by this time standing between the two men, turned around and popped him like Ali popping Fraser. Later he did get a very nice thank you hug from Pamela Anderson for it, he wondered briefly if it was enough to get Heather and Pamie in the same bed. But quickly came to his senses.
"Besides I didn't start it." He continued. "And Scott Wolf?" She pressed. "That was self defense." He reminded her remembering the ugly incident at the 1998 New Years bash where Alyssa's ex-fiancé took a swing at him. Bridget had to give him that one.
"What about that rap singer you hit?" She added. "Who the Smarties guy with the yellow hair? He was molesting Jennifer." Steve protested. "His name was Eminem he's only the hottest rapper in the music business. You could have been more tactful." His wife corrected him. "Besides you've never hit anyone for touching my boobs." She reflected. "That's if I had any." Steve looked down at his wife's perfect chest. "I'm glad YOU said that. Besides that's what you get paid for anyway." He poked still insecure about other men touching his wife's chest in her films. She loved the way he squirmed watching other men touching her in her movies.
Eminem was at the VH1 fashion music awards where Jennifer was giving a presentation. Steve against his own wishes had the duty of chaperoning her, he hated today's hip-hip music, and he loathed fashion designers. He felt they were all a bunch of pretentious, copycat artists just reinventing the classics of the past with their usual warped twist for creative licensing.
Truth was he was out of his depth and never knew what to say to people who thought image wasn't just everything, but the only thing. Before the event he even boned up with a stack of fashion magazines trying to make sense of it all. Even spent a whole night with Natalie Portman, and Melissa Joan Hart watching MTV and the Fashion Channel. Steve was too ashamed to ask Love for help.
That night Jennifer was dressed in a white pantsuit very chic, and she looked gorgeous in it. The only thing wrong with this picture was that she wasn't wearing a bra, and if that wasn't bad enough in Steve's eyes Jennifer didn't have a blouse on either. The jacket was cut low revealing the sides of her unsupported boobs for anyone who cared to look, and look they did. When he begged her to put on a simple white shirt, Jennifer just told him the designer said specifically no top. Jennifer also argued that many of the models and actresses would probably be attired in similarly revealing outfits anyway. This seemed to placate his objections. "Well come on then we're going to be late." He piped up.
After the awards ceremony they gathered at a party with other rich snooty people, including some of the less desirable elements. Mr. Eminem was there with his usual hanger-ons hogging the malt liquor bar. Through out the evening he made a few attempts to attract Love's attention as she circulated amongst the guests. First by direct introduction, and when Love politely brushed him off after only two minutes, he started showing off by adlib rapping it up with other people.
As the night wore on Eminem was becoming more sauced and more belligerent, not just towards Jennifer but also to everyone in general. He even loosened off the word faggot a couple of times, and asked Jennifer rather loudly if she had a boob job. Jennifer for the most part was trying to ignore him, as were most of the other non-musicians at the party.
During this time Steve was preoccupied working the room like a whore drumming up new clients. Although Jennifer could see he was spending a little too much time with models, and all but forgetting designers, musicians etc.
As the crowd thinned out Jennifer was feeling beat and was ready to call it a night, just as soon as she could pry Steve away from Covergirl Carmen Cass. By now Eminem urged on by Dr. Dre had summoned the fortitude to be more brazen. Approaching Love with his Homie's looking on, he gave her that glazed over donut look and rudely thrust his hand inside her jacket. Now this was not entirely new to Jennifer a few guy's had groped her breasts before, they usually ended up limping away. Many times she had signed autographs for her adoring fans lots of guys tried to get a kiss on the side, the younger ones were usually easily dissuaded, but most of the dirty old men she almost had to mace.
Slim Dandy grabbed her left tit and squeezed so hard she cried out, "OOUUUUCH!" Although more from the shock that he had done it in such a public place than in pain. "Hey! Sure feels REAL to me!" He yelled over his shoulder to his chump's who were cracking up like college freshmen. Now having Jennifer cry out when Steve was within a five-mile radius is like lighting up the Bat signal while Bruce Wayne is standing on the rooftop.
Steve moved across the room like Oprah at a 5.99 all you can eat buffet. Eminem didn't see him coming, for like all men who stood in front of Love he became completely immersed in her beauty, despite the yells from his entourage who saw Steve charging at him like an Amtrak freight train, approaching a stalled Greyhound at a level crossing.
Jennifer pulled his hand off her chest and pushed him away just before Steve grabbed the young punk, and threw him against a handy nearby sea-ment pillar. He learned a long time ago never to hit anyone, especially when there was a hard surface nearby. "Stick to your own species!"
Steve turned his attention back to who was checking out her merchandise for damage. "You alright Love?" Jennifer looked up too late to warn him, as Eminem pulled out a pistol, and cracked it on the back of Steve's head. Luckily it was just as hard as the post Bridget would say afterwards.
People in the room who had already stopped talking were now crouching down on the floor like tigers, six foot models shrank to three feet and designers trying to hide behind them fearing the gun-totting dragon. Eminem was full of rage and fury screaming, how dare a white, geek, bitchin mutha fuck, put hands on him. He was waving his gun around like it was a rap video while the crowd hugged the ground. The rapper didn't even see Michael Clarke Duncan come up behind him, until the enormous actor picked the one-hundred-forty pound dirt bag off the floor in a crushing bear hug. The Green Mile man kept squeezing threatening to pop him like zit, then the gun bounced to the carpet then he dropped Em like a dirty needle.
Everyone started to breath at once, as security swooped in and handcuffed the groaning singer. "My ribs he broke one of my fuckin ribs." Steve was still lying face down on the floor oblivious to the world around him, Jennifer crouched a few feet away calling to him. "Steve? Wake up Steve." Love was almost trampled in the stamped of decadently sexy women rushing to see if her man was okay. He felt a wet cloth on his head as he opened his eyes looking up at Claudia Schiffer who was cradling his head in her lap, while Michael helped Jennifer to her feet.
"You should lie still that's quite a bump you have back there." The epitome of blonde bombshells cooed. He settled back a bit. "I-I do feel a bit light headed." He sighed staring up and over her huge bosom at Claudia's perfect features. It took him a couple of seconds to notice others gathering around, he resented their intrusion on the private moment he and Claudia were having. Then he picked Jennifer's face out of the crowd as she knelt down to check him out. At first she was worried that he might have a serious concussion, but upon seeing the absolute look of contentment on his face as he lay in the lap of ultimate luxuries, she nearly wanted to clock him one herself.
Sensing he was over staying his welcome Steve got up reassuring all that he was just fine.
Slim on the other hand was being dragged to his feet by two of the largest gay black men Steve had ever seen in his life. Attempting to lung at Steve while in restraints Em continued screaming foul derogatory remarks at him and Love. Calling her a washed up, untalented, big tit, whore.
Steve reacted appropriately. "If that's the best you can do, you're going to end up like that one day!" He yelled back pointing up at the ceiling. Eminem looked up to see what Steve was pointing at, as did everyone else in the room. By the time they looked back down. Slim was doubled over puking up Smoked salmon and Brie all over his Nike pumps. Steve was just standing there with his hands in his pockets whistling Dixie. He also learned that if you were going to hit someone, to aim for a soft spot, and don't let anyone see you. It was the first time that night the rapper had finally shut up, as he was dragged from the room by security.
Jennifer wrapped herself around Steve as they left the room with others looking on. The single guys in room crossed Jennifer Love Hewitt off of their to do list. Steve looked over to Michael giving him the thumbs up. The intimidating black actor broke out one of his famous white watermelon smiles. "You da Man!" Later Eminem was charged with carrying a concealed weapon, Steve and Love decided not to press charges of their own which would have created an unwanted media circus.
If it weren't for the four supermodels, and three actresses that signed up the following month the girls would have grilled his bacon real good. While Love was grateful to Steve she wished he would use a little more tact next time. "Fine I'll remember that when Ricky Martin molests you." He replied. "No, no, if Ricky Martin touches me, don't you dare do anything." Love bit back
The truth of the matter was that Jennifer Love was growing up fast, too fast for Steve's liking. She had already done a nude shower scene in Party of Five behind an almost transparent clear shower curtain, and he noticed a disturbing trend towards more exposure in her modeling photos. Even now there was talk about her going topless for her next movie called "Breakers" with Sigourney Weaver. "Steve they're just boobs and every women has them." Jennifer reasoned. "But I'm not ready to show them yet." He whined.
Steve was comforted a bit knowing Sigourney wouldn't let the director brow beat Love into taking off her clothes for the camera, unless she was ready for it. He liked being one of the handful of guys in the entire world to see Jennifer's breasts, he knew it was a lost cause, but hoped to enjoy the privilege for a little while longer at least. But he would be one of the few who had nuzzled his face between those huge puppies. Jennifer didn't tell him about the simulated oral sex scene, she didn't have the nerve, and was going to let it be a last minute surprise.
"I'm just glad that you and Eric get along so well." He pretended to cringe inwardly at the mention of his wife's ex-lover fellow actor Eric Stoltz. "Must you speakth his name in this house?" Her husband protested. She gaffed at his vain attempt of displeasure. "Besides I'm just waiting for and excuse, but the twerp won't give me one." Waving her teaspoon menacingly, she gave Steve a look letting him know if he messed with any of those cute freckles on her former boyfriends face then life would be over, as he knew it. But in her heart Bridget knew that would never happen, in fact she was a bit jealous that the two men were such good friends.
One time she even made a joke that they should of married each other. Both her guys stopped watching the game and looked at the women they so admired, and then Eric shook his head. "It wouldn't work, there'd be no one to get the beer." He cracked holding up an empty for her." Steve burst out laughing at the remark. She left the room giving her significant other a whack across the head with the empty. "Ouch!"
Waiting until a bit Steve turned his attention back to the tube. "I'm beginning to see why you didn't marry her after all, smart move." Not looking at his fellow antagonist he shrugged in agreement. "Yeah ducked that one." A loud bellow from down the hall startled both of them. "COMMENTS LIKE THAT! WILL NOT GET YOU INVITED BACK FOR DINNER!" Steve tilted his head back on the couch. "So what's your point?!"
Although his wife was a decent cook by average standards and she did do a mean brazed chicken breast in mushroom sauce, Steve was the undisputed king in the kitchen. The girls thought it was almost worth marrying him just for his culinary skills alone. He was teaching her just as much in the kitchen, as she was teaching him in the bedroom.
Bridget came back a minute later with fresh brewskis, for a second they though she was going to soak them. Steve popped the top only to have half his beer foam up and over the top of the can. "Aww shoot!" His wife gave him a smug look. Eric smiled giving Bridget a high-five. "Wait till you've been with her for as long as I was." He gestured opening his beer. Bridget stepped back as a fountain of white spray shot up to the ceiling and splashed back on Eric's red hair. Sitting in his own brew he turned to his ex-girlfriend. "Yep I should have expected that." She handed him the dishtowel hanging over her shoulder. "Gotcha!"
Eric shook the suds out of his hair putting the can down he looked sideways at Bridget's husband Steve saw a glint in his eye. But Bridget saw it too. "Oh no, no you don't!" She screamed running from the TV room as they bounced up and chased her through the house. It was then in her eagerness to escape their evil plans Bridget made the fatal mistake of dashing out the back door. Where the stunningly beautiful actress was captured, and summarily sentenced to being thrown in the sacrificial pool landing with a loud SPLOSH! While her foes danced around the deck victoriously like juvenile primates Bridget swam to the side and climbed out. "Hope you two big strong men are happy."
The two men gawked as she did a striptease for them, removing her halter-top and skirt. Both of them immediately noticed her hard nipples as small drops of water trickled down her exposed boobs as she squeezed them in her hands. Turning her back as she wrung out her clothes over her head, and sauntered back into the house, their gaze falling upon her wet transparent panty clad behind. "You little tramp!" Steve yelled as he nudged Eric out of his Déj* vu. Cheekily his wife gave them a sexy little wiggle just before she disappeared inside. They couldn't see the slight smile on her face.
Bridget often wondered if she could entice them into double penetrating her, she knew Eric would probably be game but Steve wouldn't be to fond of the idea, he'd have to be gently coaxed into going along with it. The idea of being sandwiched between them with her husband's cock filling her pussy while her ex-boyfriend fucked her up the ass was one she had fantasized about frequently.
Steve's question brought her mind back to the present. He got up putting his dishes in the sink. "You're okay about this aren't you? I mean Alyssa?" He asked timidly. Bridget smiled reassuringly. No one was happier when Alyssa announced her marriage than Bridget. It would give her a chance to form the basis of long lasting relationship with Steve, and get their family off on the right foot.
With Alyssa married it would hopefully bring the level of her and Steve's relationship down a notch or two. Hopefully she could transfer some of the strong passionate feelings to her own new husband. Bridget couldn't really deny that Alyssa's close affection for Steve didn't bother her that much, but it was something she learned to live with. The birth of their twin girls had given her the opportunity to forge and inseparable bond with Steve, which not even Alyssa could break.
After Bridget and Steve got married Alyssa began relating to Steve on a more cordial note. The last thing she wanted was to be known as a home wrecker. In this respect she and Bridget grew a little closer, while Steve wrestled to keep his emotions for Alyssa under wraps. Bridget lived with the knowledge that her husband's feelings for this other woman remained strong, lurking just beneath the surface simmering under a controlled flame. "I'm fine." She responded. Bridget appreciated her husband's efforts to show his loyalty to her. Which was tough at times considering they shared not only the same taste in women, but also the same women.
Draining his cup of Poisson berry tea he leaned over and gave her a warm hug his nostrils filling with her soothing scent. "Will you be home for dinner tonight?" She asked teasingly. "What are we having?" He challenged. "Meatloaf." Bridget answered in a sparing voice. He smiled "Over six figures a year, and we're having meatloaf?" She rewarded him with small laugh, "Gluttony is one of the seven deadly sins."
Steve gave her quick kiss on the top of her head, "So is what you did in bed last month with Jennifer." Bridget countered with a quick shove of her forearm. Steve knew he'd never have to worry about coming home and finding his wife in bed with another man.
Another women, well that was something else.
"Which reminds me don't for get to pick up your tuxedo." Steve made a face, like a boy
going to his sister's piano recital. "Awwww! Do I have to go?" It was awards month and they were going to the Oscar's. Bridget sneered at him. "Contractual obligations." Like them it was in his contract to go to such media events, and to be seen to promote the company.
In the last year Steve had been to more award shows that all of them together.
He had taken Sarah to the Peoples Choice Awards, Bridget to the Golden Globes, Jennifer to the fore mentioned VH1, Jennie to the MTV, Alyssa to Blockbuster, and Winona to the Oscars. Steve was what was known as a safe date. They had been seen so much with him in public there would be no gossip later on. But this year the champagne and glamour had worn off the only one he wanted to go to was the Golden Globes and that's because Bridget's father usually went. Bridget preferred to watch them on TV.
"And don't act like you won't enjoy it." Bridget badgered. He had to admit he didn't often get to see his girls dressed and preened like Superstars, and he did love being seen with them looking like Goddesses.
"Oh yeah! This is what I get sweat pants, frizzy hair, and no make up. While the rest of your fans get absolute perfection." Steve once whined while getting ready to take Sarah out. "The rest of my fans don't get blowjobs." Sarah reminded him. "Oh, okay I can live with that." He replied complacently.
"Besides I'd much rather spend an evening alone with my favorite actress." He cooed pulling her into his arms. Bridget just scoffed, "Oh that was a good one. But you still have to go." Her husband made a sour face.
Just then Katrina banged on her tray waving her arms to signal she was done with Breakfast. "Bah, bah, bah, bah." Steve released his daughter from the highchair and held her in his arms. "Ready for playtime?" He smiled half expecting an answer. Kat smiled back clapping her hands. "Bah, bah!" He loved his two little girls they got their looks from their mother thank goodness. Kat was showing signs of inheriting Bridget's adventurous streak, being the first one to discover the doggie door work just as well for her. Calista on the other hand liked to sit and watch things, she would do this long after her sister had gotten bored and started bouncing around the room.
Giving the little urchin a kiss as he handed her off to her Mother. "You sure you don't need me here today?" He inquired guiltily, as it was the nannies day off. "Nah Winona and Gwyneth are coming over to hang out." Steve perked up at the mention of her name. "Paltrow?" Bridget gave a slight nod. His wife looked up at him seeing the glimmer in his eye. "I've been thinking dear, you've been staying home a lot with the girls. Why don't you go out, and I'll baby sit today."
Bridget gave him a wiry grin. "I never thought I'd hear myself say this, but I'd rather you go to Alyssa's. I don't want you, Ben and Matt to have something to compare notes on." He stopped and tilted his head at an angle. "You and Gwyneth go back a ways. How come she never fixed you up with Matt?" Bridget frowned. "He's not my type." Her husband nodded. "I see, not good looking enough huh, or is it the lack of deep intelligent conversation?" He gloated.
"You know if your Dad, and Gwyenth's Mom Blythe had gotten together after making "Westworld" then theoretically I'd be married to her." He surmised. "Are you deluded or what?" Bridget challenged.
She was just about to lay in to him when the buzzer rang, "It's me!" Winona announced through the intercom. "Steve went over and pressed the talk button. "Sorry we don't need any magazine subscriptions!" He yelled back. "Winona honked the car horn. "Just open the #*ing gate Steve, or I'll give you a subscription!" Steve gave his wife a smile. "And when you ask the girls, where they heard that word from..." He hit the switch. "One these days…" Bridget muttered taking Kat upstairs to get changed.
Winona came through the back door a few minutes later. "Morning!" She chirped, dropping the morning paper on the table, he turned around from the kitchen counter and kissed her full on the lips. "Mmmggh! Where's Bridget?" Steve nodded to the ceiling. "Upstairs."
Winona squatted down to greet her Goddaughter Calista Winona, this gave Steve a nice looksie at her under rated cleavage, which throughout her career Winona had kept well hidden. Instinctively she could sense his gaze lingering on her bra-covered breasts as she leaned forward. "Take a picture it will last longer." She commented.
Six seconds later a flash went off over her head. "STEVE!" The culprit just stood there with a silly grin on his face. Winona stood up intent on doing him bodily injury. "Give me that camera!" She demanded. "Well you told me to…"
Bridget came in with Cali's sister, who let out a huge squeal upon seeing her auntie No-Ni. "What's all the yelling about?" She asked knowingly. "Bonehead here just took a picture of my boobs!!" Winona lashed out. Bridget looked at the camera her husband was holding just out of reach. "Well she said and I quote, take a picture it will last longer."
"Give me the film." Bridget ordered holding out a hand. "Do you mean the film in this camera, which still has your Birthday photos on it?" His wife frowned creating narrow little furrows across her forehead. "You still haven't developed those yet?" Steve took a small step back comforted with the knowledge that she wouldn't hit him while carrying one of their young-uns. "There was still a couple of frames left."
Bridget shook her head. "Can you see Winona's face in the photo?" He thought for a second. "Nope, only the top of her head, and her tits." Winona reached for the spatula.
"Well nobody should recognize you then." She tried to assure her friend. "Unless it a director or producer, cause you know from that angle..." Steve rambled. Winona almost flipped his face across the kitchen. "You …!" Only the presence of his wife and child save him. "I'll have the film developed and destroy the last frame." Bridget stated as he surrendered the film. "You watch your step buster."
Steve just made a face. "And to think I almost asked you to marry me." He shot back.
Winona took another swipe at him, "Oh Puleez… Like I would ever!!" Bridget handed her daughter to Winona. "Both of you… really I don't know why you two fight so much." She gave the baby a kiss. "It's so you won't suspect we're having an affair, right Spank boy." Steve checked the battery of his cell phone. "You got it Butt bunny." His wife just sat down ignoring their jibs.
Winona looked over at the 8X10 framed photo in the living room, which Steve had given his wife on her 36th Birthday. She was halfway through the pile small pile of gifts sitting in the sunroom, surrounded by family and friends when her Mom handed it to her. "It's from the family, but Steve picked it out." Turning to see where he was. "Is it returnable?"
She kidded. "So what did you finally get her?" Courtney asked him as they he watched full of suspense. It wasn't easy shopping for someone who had almost everything.
That's why the rich have jewelry worth more that most peoples houses. A case in point was when Liz Hurley caused a minor panic at an after Oscar Award party, when she lost a diamond bracelet valued at a quarter of a million dollars. Luckily for her Steve found it on the dance floor, as it was a loaner. Bridget was miffed with him for not pocketing the trinket, Steve placated her savage breast by claiming it would just detract from her loveliness. "I would have lived with it!" She replied cynically.
As she unwrapped his gift there was an audible gasp from those nearest to her. She looked into the flat box twice to make sure she wasn't seeing things. But no there it was, a framed family photo, nothing unusual she had seen one like it before, and remembered sitting for it a few months earlier. Except this one was now different, she still sat in the middle with her Mother each holding one of the twins, Dad stood behind her with Aunt Jane. But where Steve used to stand at the back in the middle, there was a man she hadn't seen in over three years.
Bridget started to cry as others leaned in for a closer look. Katrina who was sitting on Mommy's lap helping with the unwrapping tapped on the picture with her tiny hand.
"Gam-pa, Gam-pa!" The fifteen month old cooed. "That's right! It's Grandpa! And Nana, and your Great-Grandfather." Bridget hugged. She turned the frame around so others could see it.
Steve had gotten a recent photo of her Grandfather the late Henry Fonda, who had trod the same boards, chewed the same fat as legends like Robert Mitchum, John Wayne, Jimmie Stewart, and Rachel Welch. He had it superimposed into the existing picture.
It had taken a week of photo manipulation at a cost of a thousand dollars. The original was taken a few years before he died in 1997, and carefully blended in with the family portrait. In spite of Henry's long illustrious film career the hardest part was getting a compatible picture. Most were either to old, or unsuitable. That's when Aunt Jane contacted MGM, and obtained thousands of unedited shots from his last movie, "On Golden Pond." With the aid of Steven Spielberg's crackerjack special effect's staff he was able to get a believable likeness of all the Fonda's together. The switch of himself and Henry wasn't the only change, he had them make the picture softer more pastel like so that it resembled a painting rather that a photo.
Bridget deeply regretted that she had not had children before her Grandpa passed away. It was through his gentle indirect guidance, she had gone into acting and attended NYU. He had not urged her to take up the trade, nor had she caught it by watching his films, or her Dad's, or even Aunt Jane's.
Steve had joked in the past that she should do a remake of Jane Fonda's Barbarella Queen of the Universe. A sort of soft porn sci-fi made in the early Seventies. Bridget said one bad sci-fi in the family is enough. (Actually the film is being remade with Drew Barrymore this year.)
It was Henry who had taught his indeterminably shy young Granddaughter the art of painting. Her introduction to acting began by joining the school drama club to build, and paint sets. Indeed they had one of his watercolors hanging in the living room. Spending time with the theater group helped Bridget over coming her initial stage fright just enough to perform a small part as nurse Betty in a school production. It was a humble beginning to busy career. To this day Steve is constantly trying to get her back into that nurses uniform.
Bridget looked around to see where the guilty party had gone. "Where else in the kitchen." Her mother pointed. Although Steve had discussed it with her parents, he wasn't not a hundred percent sure how she would react to having her Grandpa resurrected, people can be very sensitive about things like that. Giving the present, and her urchin to others to pass around. She headed for the sanctuary of the kitchen where, Shannen, and Alyson were pouring coffee for everyone, and Steve was pretending not to be hiding.
Steve had been warned off Alyson when Sarah first introduced them on the set. It was for his own safety, as unknown to most people Alyson Hannigan far from being the awkwardly shy girl she played on Buffy, was quite the nymphomaniac. More than one young virile stagehand had ended up in hospital with a hernia, or slipped disc after going into her trailer. Steve had never gotten close enough to find out, although she did send him some dangerous signals now and then. Sarah said Alyson made Alyssa look like Mary Poppins, and she would break an old man like him in two.
The Witches left with a tray as his wife came in. "Hey you." She said casually. Steve shrugged like a kid not sure weather he was going to get the strap. "That was some Birthday surprise." She teased. "You like?" He inquired. A warm generous hug, filled with love was all he needed, to tell him the world was a wonderful place to be. "The best Birthday present ever!" She whispered. "Really? Huh I thought I'd wait till tonight before giving you that." He joked. She was about to reprimand him when Lea Thompson came in, or as Steve jokingly referred to her Princess Lea. "You two behave yourselves, no quickies in the kitchen."
Of all the actresses he thought Lea most closely resembled his own wife, in looks, and body. They could be sisters Lea had the same skin tone, cheekbones, pert nose, with small high breasts and a tight firm ass. Like Love she was a professionally schooled in the art of ballet. She was a few years older than Bridget, but she didn't look a day over thirty. His eyes flitted over her ski slope shaped breasts, and dropped to her flat tummy. Lea's slender waist made his own wife's seem big and all her girl parts were still in the right place.
They both had the same sparkling blue eyes. With the right hairstyles, and clothing, they could pass for twins themselves. Maybe that was just wishful thinking on his part. He made a note to ask Eric what Lea was like, inspirationally he wondered if Eric had been with both of them at the same time, and maybe Mary Stuart-Masterson too? "I don't think we can handle more kids today." Lea waved.
"Ya were not exactly short on twins around here today are we?" Bridget quipped. Outside Lea's six year-old twin girls were playing with Jane Seymour's four-year old twin boys. While inside Bridget's own twins were rug racing with not only Jennie's daughter, but also Lisa Kudrow's triplets. "No Jane, and I are thinking of starting a support group." Lea perked. "God know I need all the support I can get." Bridget exasperated. "You have me Dear." Steve offered. The two women exchanged glances knowing how useless husbands could become in childcare.
"The girls forgot the spoons." Lea stated. "I'll get them." Bridget turned. The shorthaired blonde came closer. "No it's okay, you're the Birthday girl." Uh-huh Steve could definitely see the resemblance. "In that drawer over there." Bridget pointed. "Help yourself." She added.
"Excuse me Steve." Lea smiled reaching around him. He moved out of her way but not before accidentally brushing up against her firm, apple size breasts. He felt Lea's semi-hard nipples through the thin material of her white shirt as they scrape across his chest. Not having big boobs meant that Lea could go able to go braless on certain days. Like today, as Steve discovered when she flashed him, instead she relied on a silk camisole to cover her chest, and a quality one it was judging by the embroidered neckline accenting her prominent nipples, which perched a top her well rounded pale skinned features. Steve then realized he was spending way too much time shopping for women's lingerie. Comparing their size to his wife's he judged they would fit nicely in his hand or mouth.
Lea captured him with her alluring fragrance. Moving on his palm also quite by accident swept by her buttocks. They were bed sheet tight not saggy at all, her legs extending from under the skirt looked to be well worked out. Lea felt his bulge press on her thigh she was impressed at his volume. The beast stirred within the confines of its lair awakened by the familiar aroma of its addiction. "Thanks for the dance." Lea joked as she made her was around him. "My pleasure Lea." As in the past Bridget ignored the childish flirtation. She knew it only enhanced her husband's appreciation for her. Besides Lea had also given her a treasure bag of cast offs for the twins.
As Bridget and Steve left to rejoin the others she couldn't help but ask. "What made you think of my Grandfather?" They entered the hallway. "Well when we started dating you talked about him a lot, watching his movies, and I got the impression you really missed not having him around. Especially now that we have the twins." He divulged putting an arm around her waist. "I wish you could have met him, he would have like you." She hugged "I know." He whispered. "And where did you get the idea to have the picture made anyway?" He answered with a sly smile. "I was surfing the Net looking for porno fakes of Alyssa."
In retrospect he would never of said that, if he had seen Lin coming down the stairs. Mrs. Milano gave no indication that she had overheard him sully her daughter's good name. But instead smiled friendly manner as she walked by. Bridget thumped him on the arm, which was a good deal less than what Alyssa was going to do to him when she found out.
She was so upset that Alyssa made him write a letter of apology to her mother. Or in her words Steve would be surfing the Web for the rest of his life, searching for nude fakes of her. "Because it would be the only place he would get see Alyssa's face attached to a naked body!" Sarah and Jennie looked on later that day as the little tyrant tore a strip off him wide enough to land a jumbo jet.
"Besides why do you want to look at fakes, when you have the real me?" She whined. "Well let's face it I'm never going to see you with huge kazongas pleasuring five guys at the same time." He winked teasingly. His Sexpot was stunned for a moment before making a come back of her own. "Oh I wouldn't be so sure about that." She fired back. Alyssa stormed out leaving Steve looking ashen. "She's joking right?" He asked the two blonde bombs, who were so cracked up they couldn't talk. "Don't even joke about that!!!" He yelled after her.
Incensed he turned on them. "By the way Sarah, if you're ever thinking about getting those puppies augmented." Nodding to her cleavage. "38 triple DD's would be way to big, and Jennie big and black is really not your color." Now it was his turn to leave with the upper hand, or in this case run. Three days later Lin called her daughter to say what a nice letter she had received from Steve.
End of Part 1