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MovieStar @VaughnAsher – 30s

@FilthyBlueBird Who is this stalker? I will set him straight.

And then the usual happens. Within minutes, there are dozens of @replies. Mostly from her girlfriends on the Dirty Heaven list, the #BlueBirds. But some random stalkerish fans of my own are in there too.

@VaughnAsher is @FilthyBlueBird your GF?

@VaughnAsher if you’re the stalker, you can stalk me any time!

@VaughnAsher who is @FilthyBlueBird? Can I be your blue bird?

They get worse from there. Invitations to f**k them. Sit on my face. #SOHF is a code word for that on Twitter. @FilthyBlueBird uses that one a lot. And I’ve got to admit, that’s something I’d like to imagine. More than imagine, actually. I’d like to lick that sweet little pu**y until she’s dripping down my chin.

Fuck. I’m horny. I reach for my phone and press Grace’s number in my contacts. She picks up on the first ring.

“What the hell are you doing?” she growls at me.

“You left so suddenly, Grace. I didn’t have a chance to—”

“Get off my Twitter feed, Asher. Now!”

I chuckle. It’s one of those full-of-myself chuckles I do when my power is looming over people. “Now whyever would I do that, Miss Kinsella?”

“Because, Vaughn, I’m just a girl from Denver who has absolutely no interest in signing your contract. It was a fun fling, but it’s over now. So leave me alone and stop stalking me on Twitter! My friends are all going to see—” She’s interrupted by a continuous litany of pinging from my tablet and I admit, at this point in the conversation, I’ve got a hand over my mouth to stop the laughing. She screams on the other end of the line.

I can see why. She just got bombarded with tweets asking about me.

“Oh my God. What do I tell them? What the hell am I going to tell them?” She screams again. “Fuck! Bebe just found out, thanks a lot! I never told her about you, now she’s going to know I was with you on the island.”

“So?”

“So? Jesus, have you no sympathy for me at all? She’s my best friend and I lied to her! I f**ked a goddamned movie star and I didn’t tell her! How can you—”

“Grace?”

“—be so f**king cold, you jerk!”

“Grace?”

“Oh. My. God. Do you hear that? That’s her now! She’s calling on the other line!”

“Answer it, I’ll wait.”

“Answer it? No! I’m—”

“Grace?”

“What?”

“I’ll tell them all it was a lie if…”

“If what?” she growls at me through the phone.

“If you have phone sex with me, right now.”

“Holy shit, you are insane!”

“Oh! What’s that ding? Bebe again? I don’t suppose she’s very happy with you leaving the island the way you did either. I sense a girl fight coming. I almost wish I was there so—”

“Fine! Fine, fine, fine, I’ll do it. Just quick, say it was a lie.”

“No can do, Miss Kinsella. I need satisfaction first.”

There is a pause then. A blank in her freaking out. But the entire time I can hear her Twitter dinging the incoming messages. She sighs. “OK, you win. Just tell me what to do, I’ve never done anything like this before.” Her breath is all ragged and fast. It’s driving me wild. I wish she was here so bad. I’d strip her naked and bend her over the couch back, then finger her pu**y until she screamed.

“Make me come. It’s that simple. With words, Grace. Make me come with words.” I close my tablet cover and it makes a little snapping sound as the operating system goes to sleep. “Did you hear that? That was me putting my tablet aside. I’m not in the least bit of a hurry to stop the Twitter chatter going on right now. But if you are, my girl, then by all means, you can make it snappy.”

“You’re lucky I’m not there. I’d make it snappy. I’d snap my teeth on your manhood so hard, you’d—”

“Now, now. While I do love the image of your mouth on my cock, your plump lips wrapped around my shaft, sucking while your hands pump me hard and fast—the teeth are not working for me. So leave that part out.”

She growls again and my pants become a little tighter as she decides what to do. “Why? Why do you like to embarrass me?”

“I’m not trying to embarrass you. Why do you think that?”

“Because you want me to talk dirty to you, you want to f**k me in public, you want to drag me kicking and screaming outside my comfort zone and you want to laugh at me while you do it. I don’t like that.”

“First of all, Grace, take a nice deep breath and then sit down, lean back on your couch or the pillows on your bed, and relax for a moment. Can you do that?”

She groans on the other end of the phone. “Fine, I’m sitting on my couch, completely relaxed.”

I smile as I picture her all tensed up. She’s probably pacing. “Take a deep breath, I said.”

She inhales deeply, holds for a moment, then lets it out in a long, slow stream.

“OK, now listen to me. I am not laughing at you at all. I’m enjoying you. You make me smile, OK? You make me laugh, yes, but in all the right ways. You bring me… joy. Do you see the difference? I’m not trying to embarrass you. I’m trying to stimulate you.”

“But why does that have to be in front of the whole world?”