Fallen Starr (Open to one male writer)

[DeepBlue89]

Ashley Starr
22 years old
5'10
32 HH​

The life of a model was a bit difficult, to be sure. Sure, there were the limousines, wads of cash and the immense popularity, but there were often those nights alone, the constant whistling and catcalls, and most importantly the many people who tried to be your friends. I also dealt with a great deal of insecurity, but always needed to hold off any protests from my part. Anybody who paid attention to me, as my manager would say, is a customer and the customer is always right. I often wondered of how my life would have been, if I had not been at the beach on that fateful day, where my manager bumped into me and had the idea of making me into a bikini and lingerie model.

Though, I did have to be grateful for one thing; I did meet Andy at this job. He's like a model...I guess. An actor to be specific, meaning that he has to travel a whole lot like I do. Oddly enough, he was my first (and only) boyfriend given that I was initially approached by my agent at the age of 18 and never really had the time to date anyone (I didn't believe in having flings). We dated once I turned 21 and now at 22, I was so sure that I'd spend the rest of my life with him. It would be crazy for anyone to hear (as most believe that I must be living a wild life), but I was saving myself for Andy once we would get married.

My body did make me uncomfortable. Quite so. You see, I was tall - standing at about 5'10 (6'0 with my heels)...but I was also endowed with an absolutely massive 32HH cup. These orbs had gotten me my modeling career, and for that I was grateful, but it also got me the most unwanted attention that you could possibly imagine. Guys and women would stare, judge me and if they were particularly sleazy, cause them to stare and observe and these mountains would bounce and jiggle whenever I was in a photoshoot. I hated wearing bikinis for that reason, especially as no two piece bikini could ever seem to probably restraint them. I thought about getting a reduction, and introduced the idea to my manager, though he would just laugh:

"Baby, those things are what's making you so famous!"

They were completely natural, though people were skeptical. I'd be, if I wasn't the one who was cursed by them. Every man seemed to want to squeeze, tug, massage or motorboat them. Thankfully, I never let anyone even touch me that way. I was Andy's girl and no one else's.

Not that the chest is all that I had going for me. I was tall (as I mentioned), beautiful, blessed with some skin, a relatively slim body (which seemed to make my breasts seem even larger, according to my agent), firm ass and long legs that wouldn't quit. Still, I was embarrassed by my chest out of any feature; so much so that out of photo-shoots, I would wear the most loose fitting hoodies that you could imagine; though sometimes it would help as people thought that I was smuggling things inside when I would visit shopping malls for instance. In public however, I could avoid lewd comments by simply walking away...in my model life, not only did I have to listen to them, but to respond nicely.

Most prevalent is my life in the social media, namely Facebook. Regularly, I put pictures of myself there and instantly get hundred upon hundred of comments. I would reply with an occasional "Thank you" and "Thanks!"...until I started to mingle with one fan in particular...

((OOC: I need one dominant male for this story! PM me for details! ))

 

[EndHits]

Dimitri Charles
27 Years Old
6'1"

I stretched my arms above my head, breathing a heavy sigh before bringing them back to the sides of his luxurious desk chair. The bright light of my high definition monitor shone colors across my face. The image was brilliant: a perfectly shaped woman playing along a sandy beach, her dainty feet skimming the tide as she skipped midair in a barely-there bikini. Her sumptuous breasts led down to a thinning, but still curvaceous waistline. Her long, soft legs were emphasized by sensual thighs. What a beauty... I thought to myself, resting a fingertip along the edge of my mouse.

With one click, I brought up the next image. The same woman in a long, hip-hugging dress, tailored to emphasize her most prominent features. The next was a headshot, drawing attention to pouty lips, soulful eyes and a long mane of brown hair. Before long, I had scrolled through the whole gallery. She was intoxicating, this Ashley Starr. She was still relatively unknown, but after googling her resume, it was clear that she was being courted by more and more powerful agencies.

I had made a promise to myself after my long, drawn-out divorce: that I wouldn't ever settle for less than the best again. My ex-wife, Sarah, had been a terror - jealous, overbearing, controlling. But most of all, she was selfish. After making a small fortune in the tech industry, I had retired earlier than I could have ever expected - but that didn't stop Sarah from taking half of everything I owned. Whoever would come next, would be practically a fantasy.

Ashley Starr, the name rang through my head. It was a gamble, an impossibility even, but in the age of the internet anything could be turned from impossible to possible. Loading up a Twitter feed, I searched the name. I could directly talk to her. Seduce her. Have her begging for my touch. I could have this beautiful woman all to myself. With only 140 characters, I would have to peak her attention amongst hundreds of others. I began to type.

"@AshleyStarr - Mark my words, every day I am going to tell you what I would do to you. And I am going to leave you soaked."

 

[DeepBlue89]

It was about 11 PM when I finally got back to my hotel room, a bit exhausted after an entire day of hearing loud voices telling me what to do. Alas, the photoshoot was over so I was free to go about doing whatever I wanted. At least, that's what I initially thought but soon remembered that my manager, Mark, was insistent that I visited and maintained a presence in both my Twitter and Facebook accounts. Great, just fantastic.

Putting on a turtle neck and my jogging pants for comfort, I saw down and logged into my accounts. All was normal, I guess, until I came across a new message on Twitter:

"@AshleyStarr - Mark my words, every day I am going to tell you what I would do to you. And I am going to leave you soaked."

That was...peculiar. I never got a message like that before. Figuring that I should probably respond to that, I typed away at my keyboard, responding:

"@DCharles - I'd like to see you try. "

Playful but not too much. I smiled and soon got a phone call - it was probably Andy, we always talked to each other late. I figured that within twenty minutes I'd check again.

 

[EndHits]

I stumbled into the front door of my house at two in the morning, slogging through the foyer and into my office. Slumping down into my office chair, I ran the tip of my finger over the power button to my computer. Slowly it booted up. The sting of the bright screen bothered my eyes and I squinted to keep from overtaxing my eyesight. It took just a few moments to get online and check my e-mail. But the night had been a long one and I could practically feel the exhaustion running through my body. Rising from my seat with every intention of making my up the stairs and into my bed, a thought grazed my mind. Ashley Starr...

Still on my feet, I leaned over my desk and pulled Twitter onto my desk top. Scrolling through the feed, I saw it: my name next to hers. I read it slowly in my drunken haze - "@DCharles - I'd like to see you try. "

Pure lust ran through my body. Just this simple interaction was enough to stir my loins. She had opened a door and I was planning on walking through it. I quickly shot off three tweets:

"@AshleyStarr First, I'm going to kiss you. Hard. Those full lips pressed against mine, our tongues dancing..."

"@AshleyStarr Then, I'm going to coax you to your knees and look into your gorgeous eyes as you remove my jeans..."

"@AshleyStarr And you'll keep staring at me as my cock spills out of my boxers and onto your lips, maybe you'll gasp, maybe you'll moan in the back of your throat..."

I was gone. For good. And soon the alcohol in my system had taken its toll. I meandered up to my luxurious bed and collapsed onto its satin sheets, certain that Ashley Starr would be in my dreams.

 

[DeepBlue89]

Our conversation didn't last too long. Andy was pretty tired, as the set was a total disaster and the direction was having a fit most of the day because of it. I could understand that, despite Mark not being so crazy. We both said goodnight and I quickly got back to my computer, wondering if there were any updates to take note of. I quickly saw two new messages on my twitter account, but couldn't say that they were ordinary...

"@AshleyStarr First, I'm going to kiss you. Hard. Those full lips pressed against mine, our tongues dancing..."

"@AshleyStarr Then, I'm going to coax you to your knees and look into your gorgeous eyes as you remove my jeans..."

"@AshleyStarr And you'll keep staring at me as my cock spills out of my boxers and onto your lips, maybe you'll gasp, maybe you'll moan in the back of your throat..."

Just who was this guy? I blushed at his comments, as I never had to deal with any sexual conversations with a fan before. I thought about finding a way to just delete this, before Andy would see it. But my manager would be furious - I'm just getting started and I didn't, or rather shouldn't, want to seem like a total prude.

So...

"@DCharles - Wow."

"@DCharles - Then what?"

Maybe I was a little curious...Anyway, that's besides the point. I got off the computer and practically jumped on my bed. I needed some sleep, I think.

 

[EndHits]

Rising from my slumber, half hungover, I meandered to the master bathroom. I splashed cold water onto my face, the washed over gaze of the night before starting to awaken. Looking down across my broad chest, I noticed for the first time that I had fallen asleep in the nude. I ran my smooth fingers through the slight patch of hair at the center of my chest, massaging the skin beneath. Days like this were boring. Everything had been taken care of already and even half-a-fortune was still a fortune. No job to dedicate myself to. No woman to please. Increasingly fewer trustworthy friends to share the day with. The most excitement I had received in recent weeks was the brief, but intriguing interaction with Ashley Starr.

Trudging down the step, I threw four slices of Texas Toast into a pan and doused it with an egg and milk mixture that was always sure to give me energy for the longer days. French toast was what I had to look forward to. All I had to look forward to. Sliding into my office, my monitor was still on from the night before, the Twitter feed filled with celebrity gossip, news flashes, and personal quips from friends. But beneath lied something far more interesting.

Ashley Starr had replied:
"@DCharles - Wow."
"@DCharles - Then what?"

Dropping my naked ass into the leather bound chair I began to type furiously, the fantasies in my mind playing out in real time. She hadn't refused me yet. Let's see how far she can take this...

"@AshleyStarr I'll fill your lips with my hard cock, gripping the side of your head, slowly drawing you to its base."

"@AshleyStarr But it won't stay slow for long. Soon I'll fuck your sweet, little mouth...and you'll be begging me to keep going."

"@AshleyStarr I'll want to feel the vibrations of your moans, so I'll demand that you touch that perfect little pussy of yours."

"@AshleyStarr And I'll promise you that no longer how much you beg for it, I won't cum until you've cum."

Practically in a dead sweat, I stood from my computer and rushed to the kitchen to take the French Toast off the burner. Sitting at the kitchen table and dreaming of Ashley's response, I consumed my meal. It was delicious, but I ate it fast eager to see if the young starlet had anything else to say to me.

 

[DeepBlue89]

The morning was pretty good. Unlike yesterday, I didn't have to get to the studio too early, so I got the chance to sleep in. My usual morning routine followed - namely, getting some breakfast, showering, dressing up; the latter of which would seem odd to most people, as when I wasn't in a photoshoot, I'd always dress up in some loose fitting clothes. Truth be told, I was a little embarrassed of my curves. Imagine that; a model who is shy.

I figured that I should put this time to good use and see how things were going within the social media. My manager loved it when I was active here, as chances were that people who were happy here, would tell their friends about me and as a result, bring in more revenue. Once again, I saw that name on Twitter...

Oh my.

"@AshleyStarr I'll fill your lips with my hard cock, gripping the side of your head, slowly drawing you to its base."

"@AshleyStarr But it won't stay slow for long. Soon I'll fuck your sweet, little mouth...and you'll be begging me to keep going."

"@AshleyStarr I'll want to feel the vibrations of your moans, so I'll demand that you touch that perfect little pussy of yours."

"@AshleyStarr And I'll promise you that no longer how much you beg for it, I won't cum until you've cum."

The way that he wrote that - well, the imagery was hard to block off from my head. I never did those kind of sexual acts, mind you. Andy and I were pretty much waiting for marriage (we were both pretty conservative, I guess) before trying anything remotely sexual.

But those comments did...well, best not think about it. I did have to respond though...

"@DCharles - Oh my god."

"@DCharles - How long do you think this would be going on?"

"@DCharles - What would happen after I'd cum?"

"@DCharles - Btw, visit my Facebook please!"

I needed some more activity there, I think. Anyway, I quickly took my phone and after fixing up my appearance a bit more, I headed out the door for my photoshoot. I wondered what he'd do next...

 

[EndHits]

Things were getting interesting. Ashley Starr wasn't just responding, she was actively participating in my little game. Her curiosity was getting the best of her, which could only work to my advantage. After spending my afternoon laying out on the warm sand, listening to the waves crash against the beach, I made my way back inside. I could barely contain my excitement to return to Twitter, to continue to interact with the woman who was quickly becoming more than a brief obsession. She had conquered my thoughts and my dreams. I needed her. I needed to use her and to have her use me, to explore her exquisite body...

Resting in my office chair, I found my hand snaking down the front of my bulging trousers as a series of images of Ashley appeared on my screen. In every image she was spilling out of the front of a dress or a bikini or a nightgown. She was often shot from above to highlight her tremendous cleavage, but the longing gaze in her eyes was just as enticing as her bountiful breasts. Soon, I was unzipping the front of my jeans, freeing my hardening cock from restraint. My fist wrapped tightly around my member, I used the left hand to check out her Facebook page as suggested.

There, I found even more fodder for my fantasies: light bondage, close-ups of her flawless face, and tight fitting business attire - a personal favorite of mine. Slowly stroking up to the tip of my cock, I eventually released myself to be able to type, but even untouched my erection was out of control. I needed to answer her questions.

Typing on her public wall, I continued weaving my erotic tale:

"It would go on for as long as you'd like. But until I could see you tremble as you orgasm, my cock would remain firmly between your lips. The saliva would run down the base, collecting, lubricating a luxurious blowjob - the kind only a woman like you could give. And I would love every second of it. So would you. But eventually the combination of my taste and the subtle movements of your fingers would bring you to an ecstatic climax.

After you've finally cum and you are panting with exhausted delight, I would lay you down so that those perfect breasts of yours were sticking straight in the air. Than I would mount your stomach and slide my cock, still wet from your expert blowjob, between them. I would fuck your tits and all the while you would talk dirty to me. Tell me how much you want my cum. Would you do that for me, Ashley? Would you talk dirty to me?"

I had never been so nervous to hit send. This was getting intense.