Jack's Adventures 20: Maria 01

This is the twentieth story.

This is the story of Maria.

I wouldn't say I've had the most successful of acting careers but I've bounced around here and there, appeared in my fair share of projects. This sometimes includes student productions at local colleges, taking roles in short films for little to no pay - mostly no pay - to build some credits, get material for my reel, and maybe make a connection with a future power player in the industry. I wasn't the only actor doing this, this is a competitive field in Los Angeles, and every student project had two to three other aspiring professionals on it just hoofing it to try to make the dream come true.

This is how I met Maria.

I was the lead in a sci-fi short, playing an astronaut stranded on a different planet, dusty and arid (the usual alien topography, since there's a lot of desert around the city you can sneak a film crew onto). While stranded, this guy thinks back on his life on Earth, the woman he left behind, why he went to space... but mostly the woman he left behind. Because the woman he left behind was played by Maria, and Maria was fucking gorgeous.

Tall, slender as a willow tree, with dark curly hair, big silent-film eyes, and small, slightly parted lips. Twenty-three years old but you might've guessed she was eighteen and you also might've guessed thirty, her appearance conveying youth and freshness as well as thought and maturity. She didn't have much in the way of tits and ass, but you'd put up with anything just to stare into that face, those eyes, over a candlelit dinner or underneath you during sex. She looked like a model and was one, and maybe - likely - a better one than an actress. She didn't have much to say in the film, but when she did talk it came across very strange, like she didn't belong on Earth but on the alien planet my character was stranded on. I think she got the part because, well, we know why she got the part. You'd cross deep space to fuck this girl no matter what she sounded like, and the audience would inherently root for the main character to get home to fuck her again.

When she wasn't talking in front of a camera though she was effervescent, blindingly so, with a lovely giggling laugh and a killer smile. She didn't look a thing like Farrah Fawcett, more like a cross between Morena Baccarin and Emmy Rossum, but her vibe was that classic Farrah Fawcett poster brought to life. She was also a bit saucy, confident in her body and comfortable with sex and more than willing to joke about it. There were no sex scenes in the film, just a lot of cuddling in bed and staring into each other's eyes and one gentle kiss, but rehearsals for those moments invariably ended with Maria turning to the director and saying "and then we fuck?" The director, a 20-year-old bespectacled beanpole, would chuckle nervously and deflect, unsure how to talk to this beautiful woman he so dearly wanted to sleep with, and Maria would break out in laughter at the terrified look on his face. One time I kept it going, told the director I was comfortable with whatever, he just had to say the word. Maria looked me up and down with an appraising, approving look, said, "Jack's down," and then we held eye contact for a split second longer than I expected, and I wondered, was this all a joke? Or did I actually have a chance here?

That can be a difficulty with saucy women, especially saucy actresses. They move through the world with an alluring, forthright confidence, but, as is their right, it doesn't mean they want to fuck everyone they act that way around. So figuring out if it's real when it's directed at you can be difficult. You just can't be scared to shoot your shot, and you have to accept you might get shot down in return.

The production was only a few days long, but Maria and I spent enough time lying next to each other in bed, chatting and joking as lights and lenses were changed, me shirtless and her in a slip, that a casual intimacy grew between us. She was the first to ask about romantic partners, usually a good sign.

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

"No."

"Why not?"

Our faces were mere inches apart and her gaze was direct, piercing. I knew she assumed I was a fuckboy (even if this was before that particular term took off). I shifted slightly in the bed, not from discomfort, just to remind her of my body next to hers.

"I'm all over the place," I said. "My schedule, every day. How I make money. I couldn't give a girl the attention she deserves."

She hmph-ed, looking ever-so-slightly taken back, maybe not having expected a mature response.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" I asked.

"No."

I laughed out loud. "You're joking."

A huge surprised grin broke across her face. "Why?"

"Every single guy in front of and behind a camera must want to ask you out. It must've happened a ton. What's your red flag?"

"I don't have one!"

"I don't believe you. How many cats do you have?"

"Just one! That's offensive!"

We were both grinning, and she was clearly not offended.

"Oh, so you're incredibly clingy," I said.

"I'm very chill."

"I mean that's the vibe I get. But we haven't gone on a date."

"We haven't."

"Not yet."

I winked. She stared at me for a second before looking away at the work continuing around us. I knew some of the crew guys were listening in, could even see the sound guy in my periphery, his headphones on, looking down at his wireless receiver and smiling slyly.

Maria looked back at me, composing herself, shifting her body in the bed now. I felt our legs touch. Her huge eyes bored into mine, maybe waiting for my follow-up question. But we were professionals, in an intimate work environment.

"When you wrap," I said, "let's talk."

She nodded, and that was that.

The next day was Maria's last. When her final shot wrapped, the director announced it to the set and everyone applauded enthusiastically (the hot girl always gets a little extra fervor). She applauded back graciously, and then she moved off with the hair and makeup girl to clean up, throwing a quick glance my way as she walked off.

While the next scene was being set-up I hung out alone in the tiny side room we were using as a green room. Maria came in, a backpack over her shoulder, looking fresh-faced, her hair pulled back in a bun.

"Heading out?" I said.

"Uh-huh."

I stood and we both opened our arms simultaneously for an embrace instead of a handshake. We held the hug briefly, then stepped back and looked at each other.

"Let's grab drinks," I said.

"Yes! What's your number?"

I read it out to her, and she sent me a text. Her name, followed by a kissing emoji.

"Drinks sound great," she said.

"And then we fuck?" I said.

Her eyes widened in surprise, but she didn't stop smiling. It was a risky joke, but, like in a Wile E Coyote cartoon, you can only fall if you look down.

"Then we fuck," she said.

I turned to an imaginary director next to us. "Maria's down."

She laughed and pushed me on the shoulder. "Text me," she said. And she left.

Our first drink date came quickly, just a few nights later, the same night I'd wrapped on the film. We had a wrap party coming over the weekend, literally the following night, but it was abundantly clear that neither of us could wait that long.

I got there first, a cocktail bar in West Hollywood, and claimed two stools at the counter. I grabbed us waters and waited, observing the local scene, the mix of straight and gay couples, everyone there looking their Friday night best. And then Maria walked in, and blew them all out of the water.

She was wearing a slinky silk minidress, black. The neck pooled just above her breasts, held up by two narrow straps that left most of her shoulders and upper chest visible. The dress hugged her slim body wonderfully, accentuated her tight waist and even made her narrow hips stand out. The bottom hem of the dress sat only a few inches below her crotch, showing off every inch of her legs, which looked even longer in a pair of stilettos. Her curly hair was perfectly coiffed around her face, but when we made eye contact she demurely pushed a little bit of it behind her ear. I rose, put an arm around her lower back, and kissed her on the cheek.

"You look stunning," I said.

"So do you."

"Not as good as you, but thank you."

I pulled out her stool and she took a seat. I slid in next to her, and we had a few moments of stealing shy glances at each other before the bartender came over and we ordered cocktails (a gin martini for Maria, a negroni for me). She then asked me how the rest of the shoot had gone, and I started regaling her with wild tales about all the nonexistent dangers we'd faced shooting in the desert, and any awkwardness between us was forgotten. We talked about the rest of the crew, praising their abilities and gently, lovingly, mocking their foibles, and before I knew it we'd finished our first round of drinks.

A whirlwind night had only just begun.

I paid and we left the bar together, heading to find another place to have another drink. We strolled down Santa Monica Boulevard, laughing and talking, and then ducked into a raucous gay bar for a cheaper round of cocktails. We were there much longer than expected, somehow ended up doing a round of tequila shots with a rowdy bachelorette party from Alabama, somehow ended up at Guisados eating late night tacos with a couple of middle-aged gentlemen from the local city council. Maria was an absolute blast, open to anything, gregarious with complete strangers. By the end of the meal, on the far side of midnight now, we were all over each other, her legs slung over mine, my arm wrapped around her shoulder, our faces only a few inches apart at all times.

We finished our food, said goodbye to our new friends, and jumped into an Uber. It whisked us off in the direction of Maria's apartment, and we started making out in the back seat of the car like a couple of teenagers. I had one hand grasping the back of her head, the other holding her tight waist, and her body heaved eagerly against me with each movement of her lips over mine. My hand moved down her waist and onto her bare thigh, far up her leg, just below the hem of her dress. I had an erection growing painfully in my slacks, wanted one of her hands to run across it, wanted her to mount me and dry hump me into oblivion, but that wouldn't have been safe behavior in a moving vehicle.

The Uber reached her apartment building and we tumbled out of the car, breathlessly thanking the driver as we went. I followed Maria up the walk to her building, up the stairs to the second level of a duplex.

"You have this entire floor?" I said.

"Me and my roommate."

"Where are they?"

She looked at the dark windows. "Her boyfriend's, maybe."

She took her keys from her purse, worked on getting them into the lock, and I was immediately on her from behind, pushing her hair away from her neck, kissing and biting it, grinding my crotch up against her ass. She moaned and pushed her butt back against my hard dick, and seemed to forget about getting inside, her hand dropping away from the lock, her head falling away from mine and exposing more of her neck to me. She smelled intoxicating, wearing the perfect amount of some floral perfume that didn't overpower you but left you wanting more. Then Maria seemed to remember her previous goal, got the key into the lock, the door opened, and we tumbled inside.

The door closed behind us, Maria switched on a floor lamp, and a chic, mid-city living room was revealed. Bumpy and warped hardwood floors, a low slung couch with a linen cover and brightly patterned blankets across the back, an acoustic guitar propped in a corner.

"Yeah, roommate's gone," Maria said.

An orange cat was watching us from the doorway to the kitchen.

"Hi, Wembley!" Maria said.

She took a single step toward the cat and it darted away into the darkness of the kitchen. Maria sighed, waved a dismissive hand in the cat's direction, then turned back to me, threw her arms over my shoulders, and kissed me. I put my arms underneath her butt and lifted her into the air, she wrapped her legs around me, and I carried her toward her couch as we made out wildly.

I sat down on it, keeping her aloft the entire time, and then lowered her knees gently to the couch cushion either side of me. She brought both her hands to my face and her body heaved up toward me, pushing my head back onto the top of the couch and bending forward over me as she kissed me. My hips lifted up, my cock stretching hard down one pant leg, and she scooted her knees outward and dropped her hips and I felt her hard pelvis press down against my dick. She started grinding her hips forward and back, the pressure running hard against my shaft and over the ridge of my head, the sensation incredible.

I cursed into her mouth, bit her lower lip, and she moaned and started working her hips harder and faster against me.

"You're so hard," she said, her voice husky and breathless.

"You're so hot."

I brought my hands to her ass and gripped her butt cheeks through her dress and did nothing to stop her movement, just helped hold her down firm as she worked herself against me. I bent my head sideways to look down at her crotch, and she took that advantage to kiss down my jaw and chin, down my neck, to push my shirt up my body and reveal my chest and start smothering it with kisses. Her dress, already short, was riding up her thighs, and I could see the black panties she was wearing, the crotch of them rubbing up and down the indent my hard cock was making on my slacks.

She pushed off my chest and sat back on my legs, her knees still either side of me, looking down at my dick, her mouth hanging open. She twisted her arm around and leaned forward slightly in order to put her hand flat against it, her fingers pointing back toward her body, and she dragged her palm up and down my length. She raised her eyes to me, her mouth still open, her gaze focused but every muscle in her face slack with lust. I stared into her eyes as she pressed her hand up and down my dick slowly, the friction sometimes causing her skin to catch against the fabric and her palm to shudder down my shaft.

"You've got a big dick," she said breathily, now her body getting into the movement, her back lifting up straight as her hand pushed toward the base of my shaft, curling and tilting sideways as her hand pushed down toward the head.

"Uh-huh," I said, grinning.

She smiled back, then bit her lip and closed her eyes. I looked down her neck to her chest, to where the fabric pooled just above her breasts. I reached up and pulled the straps of the dress off her shoulders, letting them fall around her upper arms.

She made a satisfied sound, opened her eyes again, then took her hand off my dick to put both hands around the top of the dress and pull it down underneath her breasts. She was wearing a strapless bra, which she then pulled upward over her head and slung down across the arm of the couch, and as she settled back down on top of me I looked at her breasts. They were a-cups, pale and perky, with small brown areolae and nipples.

"I love your tits," I said.

"Really?"

"Really."

She put her hands around the back of my head and pulled me forward and clutched me to her chest. I opened my mouth and took one of her nipples in my mouth, and she moaned, and as I sucked gently on it I felt her hips shift back up my legs and back onto my dick and her pussy started to grind against it once again. I licked her nipple side to side with big movements of my tongue, leaving saliva across her skin, and she held me even harder to her body, her chin over my head.

I moved my mouth to her other breast, ran my teeth up over the gentle curve of her underboob, felt the flesh in my mouth. She started to grind her hips against me faster, and she started moaning faster in return. Her moans grew in pitch, grew in volume. I sucked on her nipple, let her feel my teeth around it, ran my pursed lips over it, and she gasped and her body heaved over me in even larger motions. I'm not proud to say that the movement of her hips against my cock was getting me close to blowing a load in my pants, but it was. I knew she was also close to coming, and the battle would just be to get her there first.

I moved my hands down, found where the hem of her dress was riding around her ass, pulled it up around her waist, and grabbed her bare butt cheeks. She moaned and I held her firm and started helping drag her pussy along my cock, to make sure that her clit was making good contact with my hard shaft.

"Oh fuck," she said, pulling her chest back from my mouth and bringing her mouth first to my ear and then looking into my eyes. "You're gonna make me come."

I gripped her ass harder. "I want you to come."

"Uh-huh?" she said.

"I want you to come all over this big, hard dick."

Her hips moved even faster and harder against me.

"Oh my god oh my god," she said.

She leaned in and kissed me, I bit her lip, her pelvis ground back and forth a few more times, and then she yelled, "FUCK!" and she gasped and her mouth came free from mine and she clutched me roughly to her breasts as her body started to shake. She lifted her hips off of me, cursing up toward the ceiling as her thighs spasmed, leaning harder against me for support, me taking her weight onto my torso while I still gripped her ass firmly, while I still licked one of her nipples over and over again. Her body shuddered against me here, gave a couple final spasms, and then everything relaxed, she moaned, and she sat back down onto my legs.

She looked down at me, her expression blitzed, but smiling, and she laughed as her eyes danced back and forth between mine.

"Holy shit," she said.

"Holy shit," I said, immensely relieved I hadn't come myself.

She looked down at my slacks, at the small streak of wetness down my shaft.

"Oh my god," she said, putting a hand to her mouth. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," I said. "Just take it out."

She looked at me, smiling deviously, and then her hands started to work my belt.