Page 5 of Forrest
She’s so frigging beautiful. I just want to pick her up and carry her straight to my bed.
Sally, the namesake of the diner we’re at, comes over with our breakfasts.
Skye’s eyes light up as she sees what I’ve ordered.
“This is your usual?” she asks, her mouth hanging open.
“I have a big appetite."
Her eyes glide over my arms and my shoulders and my hands and then land on my mouth. She pulls her lips between her teeth. “I bet you do.”
“You have no idea,” I growl, scooping a big bite of waffles and ice cream onto my fork and feeding it into my mouth.
For a while, we sit in silence. Eating. I can see the color coming back into Skye’s face. She’s no longer the sad, crying woman I found lying in a ball on the grass. Her back’s straighter. There’s a smile on her gorgeous, cherubic face. Her eyes are lively. Happy. Mischievous. Every second I’m with her, she gets more and more stunning to look at. My cock’s hard as a steel pipe. Oozing precum out its tip. I couldn’t go to the restroom, even if I wanted to. I’d probably poke someone’s eye out.
“So,” she says, her mouth full of fries, “what is it you do, Forrest? Or do you spend all you’re time chopping down trees early in the morning and waking up innocent women who are trying to sleep?”
“Stuntman.”
“What?” Her mouth falls open. I can see her soft, pink tongue. A mental image flashes through my mind. Skye on her knees. Me standing over her. Undoing my buttons and rubbing my cock all around her lips. Her tongue flicking out her mouth. Licking the head of my cock. Devouring me. Swallowing my length whole with spit running down the sides of her mouth. Her eyes looking straight at me as she makes me cum in her mouth. “You mean, like in movies? In Hollywood?”
“That’s right.” I sit back and pat my stomach. The plates before me now empty. I resist the urge to lick them clean.
There’ll be plenty of time for licking, later,I think.Once I have Skye alone. Naked. In my bed.
“That’s incredible!” She puts her knife and fork down. “Have you been in anything I’ve seen?”
“Probably,” I say. “Almost definitely. Guess it depends what kind of movies you watch.”
I go on to tell her all about my job. I’ve been asked this question so many times, it almost rolls off the tongue without thinking.
How it’s something I was always interested in, even from an early age. How I was drawn towards the cameras and the fame and the danger like a moth’s drawn towards a light. But how I then found out that the reality isn’t all it was made out to be. How celebrities are just people. Often flawed. Pretentious. Entitled prima donnas surrounded by an army of assistants and managers and agents who spend their lives stomping on anyone who stands in their way. How I spent a decade living in Hollywood, thinking I was the shit. But after ten years of running around like a madman, I realized something was missing in my life. That everyone around me was fake. Fake friends. Fake girlfriends. Fake jobs doing fake things for fake people.
“I’d saved up a lot of money. Almost enough to retire on. So I bought myself a cabin in the woods. Moved out here. I go back once or twice a year. I still have an agent. If something good comes up, he gives me a call. If I like the sounds of it, I accept. But it’s more for the fun of it, nowadays. My real passion is being out here. In the mountains.”
“Alone?” she asks. “Don’t you get lonely? I’ve only been here a day and I already feel like I'm going mad!”
“It can take a little while to get used to. Think of it like a detox.” I slip a couple of twenties from my wallet and leave them on the table. Skye’s finished her meal. Eaten all of it, too. Which only serves to make me like her more. I like a woman who can eat. Someone who isn’t afraid to be themselves in front of a man. In Hollywood, the women would normally order the smallest, least caloric dish on the menu. Spend half the meal pushing it around on their fork pretending to eat. It wasn’t healthy. To be that obsessed about how much you weigh. A healthy person needs to eat. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with a little cushion for the pushing. In fact, that’s just the way I like it. Something to hold onto. Just like Skye. A nice pair of wide hips that fill out a pair of jeans. A nice, round ass I can sink my teeth into. Like a big, juicy pear sent straight from heaven.
I put my elbows on the table and lean towards her. Her perfume hits my nose like a slap to the face. She smells delicious. Like a warm summer day by the lake.
“How about I show you around?” I say. “Right now, all you’ve done is sit alone in your cabin. But that’s not what this kind of life is about. It’s about getting out in nature. Being surrounded by beauty. Looking upon the vast expanse of the untouched world, and coming to terms with the fact that we’re just tiny little dots on a huge, beautiful canvas. That the problems we thought were overwhelming, are mere distractions from what’s really important.”
“Okay,” Skye says, a mischievous glint in her eye. “As long as you keep me safe.”
“I’d never let anything bad happen to you, Skye,” I growl, reaching over and squeezing her hand. “And that’s a promise.”
5
Skye
Four o’clock in the morning.My alarm’s so loud I have to fight the urge to pick up my stupid phone and smash it against the nearest wall.
Why did I agree to this?
When Forrest said he was going to show me around, I thought he meant a pleasant afternoon stroll. Maybe a picnic beneath a tree, followed by a night of steaming hot passion on the floor of his cabin.
But, it seems like he has something else in mind. Something more adventurous.
