Fresh Off the Bus

She considered. "There will be photographers at the club, right? They'll be taking pictures of you?" He nodded, and she continued. "Somewhere discreet for dinner, then. I'd like one more bit of normalcy before I glimpse the world y'all seem to think is so crazy."

Parker smiled and shook his head. "Wow, you're incredible. You're incredible and you're gorgeous. How did I manage to snag a date with you?" The girl blushed and lowered her eyes. He rose to his feet and held out his arm. "Shall we?" he asked.

"We shall," Amberly replied as she took what was offered with a smile.

And off they went for the second time.

* * *

The girl was blazing hot: short black leather mini-skirt, another pair of sexy knee-high boots and a slinky silken backless shirt colored deepest purple. With her hair coiffed up and her make-up pristinely applied, the girl was a fucking bombshell. The paparazzi were going to go nuts. The tabloids would have a field day.

He picked her up in a limo, which was easy after the talk they'd had in her apartment. He was a little rusty with that particular script (he rarely met girls who didn't know who he was) and while he butchered a few parts, it all worked out fine in the end.

"Wow," she whistled when she saw the car. "You weren't kidding, I guess."

"No," he said simply as he helped her into the shiny black stretch, the interior of which was decked out with plush leather, blue track lighting and a full bar.

Dinner was another intimate candle-lit affair in an out-of-the-way restaurant. They mixed in light-hearted talk with more in-depth discussion as Parker used his perceptiveness and intuition to tell the girl exactly what it was he thought she wanted to hear, as well as some light touching of their hands and arms and their feet beneath the table (although it was far shorter than the previous night's dinner as they had other things to do).

The limo ride to the club was much quieter than the ride to the restaurant, however. Parker could tell the girl was growing nervous, which was perfect. Nervous meant she would cling to him and look for comfort and protection, which would only serve to make her more attached.

The limo pulled up in front of the club and he heard her gasp at the scene outside. He turned to look at her and gauge her reaction as she took in the view: the first thing she noticed was the line to get in, which wrapped half-way around the block and was full of young persons of varying attractiveness decked out in skimpy clothes; the second thing she noticed was the line of six big black bouncers standing guard at various places along an empty red carpet that led up to the entrance to the club; and the third thing she noticed, the thing that captured her attention and held it, was the gaggle of camera-waving paparazzi crowded in behind a thick velvet rope on the opposite side of the carpet from the line. The paparazzi had been loitering around when the limo pulled up, but now they were buzzing and eagerly anticipating the emergence of those inside, lenses trained on the limo door.

Parker grinned. "Ready?" he asked, and she nodded tightly. "Just stick with me and don't answer any questions. Try not to make eye contact with any of the photographers, ok? It'll just encourage them."

The flashing lights assaulted them almost immediately. The whistles and shouting followed moments later. Three of the bouncers did their best to escort Parker and Amberly down the carpet and into the club, but Parker lingered to allow the paparazzi to snap their fill of photos as he had promised Jimmy he would. Amberly was clutched to his arm, eyes wide as she listened to the men with the cameras calling out to them. Paparazzi were assholes, but they were a necessary part of the equation, sadly enough.

"Hey Parker! Who's the latest hottie?"

"What's your name, baby? Where you from?"

"Have you slept with him yet? How was he?"

"Look over here, sweetheart! We'll make you a star!"

Amberly was trembling when they got past the first of the two entry doors and they stopped for a moment before they moved into the main part of the club. Her eyes were still wide and there was an amazed and not-quite-comfortable sort of look in them. It reminded Parker of a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car.

"Is it always like that?" she whispered.

Parker shrugged. "That was a little more aggressive than most other times," he admitted. "You're new to them and they got a little excited. Come on, let's have some fun."

Club Envy was the hot new Hollywood nightclub. It had a sister operation in New York City that had its own significant buzz and both establishments were the talk of the socialite elite and celebrity class.

Parker looked around and immediately liked it: it was much more Las Vegas than it was New York, which was his biggest concern. Bright neon, flashing lights, loud music, grinding bodies, lots of skin, and lots and lots of booze rounded out the scene.

Jimmy met them just inside the second door. There was a gorgeous young blonde on his arm, which was probably one of the reasons why he was grinning so stupidly.

"All set," the man shouted over the din as his eyes roamed over Amberly's body.

"Sweet," Parker shouted back.

"Follow me," Jimmy said, and he turned and escorted them back to their private VIP booth.

The club had an excellent design: dance floor on the bottom level with three separate bar areas; a second level full of tiny regular tables and couches and cushions for socializing while not dancing; and then the third level, the VIP level, where private booths looked out over everything going on below without the possibility of being seen. Each booth was spacious and fully stocked, equipped with curtains to block off viewing entirely if further privacy was wanted. The third level also had its own smaller dance floor for VIP patrons only.

Parker grinned as he considered the future number of girls he would fuck in those VIP booths.

Jimmy had saved them what looked like one of the best tables in the place: front and center on level three looking out over the whole of the dance floor. One-way glass covered one whole side of the booth, allowing them to look out over the dance floor two levels below as well as the exclusive third-level dance floor, but allowing no one the opportunity to look in. Curtains on the backside of the booth blocked people in other VIP booths from watching them, too. Burton and Charles were already there waiting for them.

"Boys, you remember Amberly," Parker said as they slipped into the booth, Parker on one end followed by Amberly with Burton to her left, followed by Charles. "Amberly, this is Charles and Burton, whom you might remember from the night we met."

Amberly smiled shyly. "Yes, of course," she said sweetly. "Nice to see y'all again."

"You look a little more dressed up than you did at the Apple Dish," the one named Burton noted. "You looked nice in work clothes, but I must say you look lovely in play clothes, too."

Amberly smiled. "Thank you," she said simply.

The one named Charles was grinning. "You look hot!" he exclaimed, and the girl blushed.

Amberly squeezed his arm and whispered, "Is there a restroom close by?" she asked.

Parker had seen one as they were walking to the table. "Around the corner," he told her as he rose to his feet and let her out.

The three men watched the tight swish of her ass and the long sleek and line of her back as she walked away, covered only by a series of deep purple strings holding the front of her slinky top up. It was an erection-inspiring sight, to be sure.

"Wow," Burton breathed when the girl was out of earshot. "She's a fox. How old is she?"

"Massive titties," Charles said with his usual loopy kind of grin. "What I would give to get my hands on a pair like that . . ."

Parker grinned wolfishly. "She's nineteen," he revealed.

"The perfect age," Burton said with a nod.

There was an old joke among their circle of wealthy young men about nineteen year-old girls: they were still teenagers, which was hot, but not eighteen, which meant they probably had a little bit of experience in the sack and with the world. Nineteen, therefore, or so they said, was the perfect age. For Parker, nineteenwasperfect, especially if the girl fell into the category of Green Gable: kind of innocent, a little naïve, fresh-faced, wholesome, but open to the prospect of new things. It was the ultimate combination in his mind and Amberly fit the description perfectly.

"You gonna fuck her tonight?" Charles asked with a little more attentiveness than was proper.

Parker shrugged. "We'll see," he told them, and then things got a little more interesting.

Three things happened all at once: Amberly returned from the restroom, looking incredibly sexy as she walked towards them; the cocktail waitress arrived, a beautiful young Hawaiian woman; and Jimmy returned, the same blonde on his arm, but with three additional young ladies following behind.

The sluts had arrived.

Parker pulled Amberly to him when she reached him and whispered right into her ear, "These girls are for Charles and Burton. Keep an eye on them for me, will you? My friends are not the most debonair of men."

Amberly, wide-eyed, nodded.

Jimmy announced, "Everyone, this is Kendall, Sienna and Reiko. Girls, this is Charles, Burton, Parker and . . . I'm sorry, miss, your name is . . .?"

"Amberly," the girl answered.

"And Amberly," Jimmy finished. "Drinks tonight are on the house, Parker, as long as all the ladies hit the dance floor a few times."

"Will do, my friend," he replied.

The new girls piled into the booth, which now had Parker on the end with Amberly to his right, then Kendall, then Charles, then Sienna, then Burton, then Reiko, who did not look particularly happy about being on the other end. Kendall and Sienna were your stereotypical hot young Hollywood club-hoppers: platinum blonde hair, bright blue eyes and huge fake tits, dressed scandalously. Reiko was an attractive Asian chick with a tight little body, also with big tits and clothes similar to the other girls. Girls like these (hot and ready and willing when the wallet was big enough) were a dime-a-dozen in Hollywood.

And so their night of revelry began and Parker found much enjoyment in the way the three gold-diggers were treating (and competing over) Charles. Few feminine tactics were not employed: flirtatious looks, gentle body contact, breathless voices, sexy sounds and giggles, not to mention each of the three took him down to the dance floor for a serious bump-and-grind session at least once. The effect on Charles was clear: he returned with tented slacks each time.

It was maybe a couple of hours later, five rounds of drinks in and after much in the way of spirited dialogue (and lots of cooing and whispering and innocent touching and caressing between himself and Amberly) that Parker leaned down and whispered again in the girl's ear, "Would you like to dance?"

Amberly turned to him and smiled gratefully. "Love to," she admitted.

They rose and headed over to the third-level dance floor, where they occupied a quieter corner. Parker took the girl into his arms, pulling her body into his, relishing the feel of her pressed tightly against him. The music was blasting a slow and steady hip-hip rhythm and they began to gyrate their bodies against one another in time with the beat.

"Have you had fun tonight?" he shouted, though with all the noise surrounding them it sounded like only a whisper.

She nodded, those beautiful light and bright brown eyes sparkling, and lay her head against his chest. She was definitely feeling the effects of the alcohol (three martinis would do that to a girl who weighed no more than a buck-twenty) which was a very good thing for him. Her silken auburn hair tickled his face as she snuggled against him.

And then Amberly tilted her head up and kissed him softly on the cheek as her delicate hand squeezed his arm. She said nothing, but the sparkle in her lovely eyes spoke volumes. Parker leaned forward and kissed her gently on the forehead, knowing beyond shadow of doubt that he would have his cock inside her by the end of the night.

Which was absolutely thrilling.

* * *

The song changed and the speed of the rhythm increased, and Amberly went right along with it.

She had been in the arms of the boy she was dating, Parker, content to snuggle there and feel the strength of him and the warmth of him, her head spinning just a bit from the drinks she'd had back at the table, not to mention the whole incredible situation (paparazzi and VIP tables and beautiful women and limousines and everything) and when the music got faster, she let it flow right through her.

Amberly stepped back then and her eyes fluttered shut, and she began to move her body, her svelte frame turning and flowing in one seemingly interminable motion. He breasts swayed and jiggled and felt so good with her shriveled nipples right against the silk. She loved to dance and often thought of dancing as poetry in motion, and did her best in that moment to make it so.

She opened her eyes and saw Parker staring at her intently, eyes wide and mouth slightly open as if watching her dance was the hottest thing he had ever seen, and she giggled and stepped back into his arms. They shimmied around the dance floor, bodies pressed tightly together, her breasts squished against his chest. She moved her body as sensually as she knew how, relishing the look on his face and the effect she was having.

Amberly was acutely aware of his hand resting on her shoulder and she gasped when it trailed slowly down her back, caressing the smooth skin as his other hand moved up to play with her hair, running his fingers through the silken strands. He smelled incredibly good, too; his musky scent filled her nostrils and cleared her head. Her eyes fluttered shut. The whole of her being was focused on the feeling of his arms around her, his body against hers. The fingers on her back pressed into her flesh, massaging the muscles they found there. She moaned into his neck and kissed the skin that was suddenly there beneath her lips.

Amberly swayed softly against him and suddenly became aware of his growing bulge. She sighed at the knowledge that he found her arousing and kissed him again on the neck, lingering this time, suckling him gently. Her tongue flicked out across his skin. A tingling sensation had struck fiercely between her legs as she brushed against the hardness in his pants. He moaned, and she moved her lips up to his face.

The kiss was like pure electricity shooting through her from head to toe. His soft lips grazed over hers as his hand caressed her cheek, and rubbed the side of her mouth. Her lips parted, allowing his warm tongue to slide inside her mouth. The tip of his tongue teased her pouty lips and slid across the smooth white edge of her teeth. He pulled away then and she whimpered at the loss, and he smiled and bent down to kiss her again, softly brushing his lips against her neck before moving up to lick faintly at her swollen bottom lip.

And then he broke away again.

"Oh my god," he said. "Keeping my hands off you is going to get difficult."

Amberly giggled and flashed the boy a flirty grin. "Who says you have to keep your hands off me?" she asked, and Parker groaned.

When they returned to the booth, they found the two blonde girls locked in a passionate kiss, mouths dueling, hands groping at their supple young bodies. Charles was watching slack-jawed, completely rapt, while Burton seemed to be excited but mildly embarrassed and the Asian girl appeared very displeased.

"Wow," Amberly whispered. She had never seen two girls kissing so aggressively up close before and the sight was quite erotic, and very unexpectedly alluring.

The girls broke apart. "Sorry," the girl named Kendall said with a grin, "couldn't resist."

Amberly was about to sit back down when she felt Parker's hand clutching her arm. She turned to find his dark eyes narrowed intensely. He leaned in and his hot breath tickled her ear as he whispered, "Want to get out of here?"

"Yes," she replied, and that simple word came breathlessly, heart fluttering and knees all of a sudden trembling, her bright brown eyes wide as saucers, for she now knew exactly where their night was headed.

* * *

Eddie Beamer had been the limo driver for Parker Wellington for nearly two years. It was an awesome gig and he did not anticipate leaving it for some time.

For starters, the job paid well, nearly twice what the usually salary was for similar work elsewhere. The reason for this was simple: availability. Wellington was a wealthy young playboy who lived a different sort of life, and as such the hours he required service were strange and sometimes inexplicable. Eddie was on-call twenty-four hours a day.

For another, Eddie got to taste just a bit of the high society life-style. There was no end to the procession of gorgeous women, athletes, and celebrities young Master Wellington paraded through his life and Eddie got to witness all of it. Also, when Wellington went out of town, he was more apt to take along his staff than to hire fresh blood at his destination, which meant Eddie often got all-expenses-paid vacations to exotic locations where the women were beautiful, easy, and did not cost too much.

It was also quite enjoyable to watch the young man work. The guy got more ass than rock stars, a regular modern-day Casanova. Beautiful women flocked to him and Eddie got more than his fair share of the view.

It was after midnight when he finally got the call: the boss and his date (another gorgeous young female) were coming out the hidden VIP exit to avoid the paparazzi. Eddie pulled around to the back, got out and waited, and then opened the door for the two of them when they arrived.

The two young people were all over each other in the car, kissing and canoodling and petting. It was quite clear significant amounts of alcohol had been consumed. It was also quite clear that Wellington was shortly going to notch yet another hot piece of ass on his bedpost.

Eddie kept the divider down and watched happily. The girl was hot and wearing a short black mini-skirt, and while they did nothing too provocative, mostly just serious necking, he did catch the occasional glimpse of her panties. Plus, it was always fun to watch the boy's hands roam over the body of fine young females.

Wellington had several places in the city he could take her: his yacht, which was his primary residence; his father's house; his mother's house; and three condominiums, one in Orange County, one in the Marina, and one smack-dab in the middle of Hollywood.

It was the last of these places to which Eddie was ordered to drive.

* * *

It was dim in the room they were in, but the candles that served as the source of what light there was cast with their soft flickering flames a luxurious glow over the breasts of Amberly Faye.

The auburn-haired beauty lay on her back, sprawled out across the middle of an antique Oriental rug, the beige fibers smooth against her bare back and bottom. Standing over her, an awed and iniquitous smile on his face, was Parker Wellington.

Things had moved very fast.

They left the club and hopped into the limo, and the short drive had involved much in the way of deep kissing and groping. They were tasting with their lips and tongues and testing with their hands and fingers, and then the drive ended and he whisked her past a set of gold double doors and into an elevator, minds whirling and desires mounting.

The penthouse suite of Parker Wellington was on the thirteenth floor of an ultra-posh and pricey condominium building. The suite housed seven bedrooms and six bathrooms, plus several additional rooms for a grand total of nearly four thousand square feet. Two personal attendants and a private chef lived there, too, all of whom were expecting Parker to arrive at some point that night. They were familiar enough with his habits and indiscretions, however, to know he wanted them to remain safely locked away in their quarters until morning.