I'm not someone who spends a lot of time lusting over celebrities. Sure, I appreciate their handsome faces and hot bodies, but I've never once fantasized about doing the nasty with one. What would be the point?
When I lust after someone, a big part of the fantasy is the possibility that it might happen. So, although a guy like Kellan Lutz is smokin' hot I'd much rather fantasize about a more realistic situation - like finding a cute, geeky Midwestern accountant to snuggle up with. (How's that for being real?)
Given my relative indifference to celebrities, I was quite surprised to awaken this morning feeling closer to Brad Pitt than to any other man on the planet.
I have no idea how he found me, or how he ended up naked in my bed, or why he looked several years younger than he does on TV, but this isn't one of those situations where I'm going to ask too many questions.
The highlight of being with Brad was feeling his sexy body pressed into me; I was the bottom and he was the top. My legs were bent far back over his shoulders which allowed him to bury his face in my neck with each thrust. It was a huge turn-on to feel his scruffy chin nuzzle against my face. I had no idea that getting fucked by someone famous could be so romantic.
Aside from the raw sexiness of being intimately intertwined with Brad, there were other, random thoughts that ran through my head while we were together. One was that I liked how relaxed he was. He seemed really at ease with himself and with being with me. Also, I liked the way he spoke. He had a slight southern drawl that was both funny and endearing.
There was one thing that bothered me about him, however: I couldn't believe how much he talked. Honestly, the guy never shut up. The worst part about all his talking was that nothing he said was interesting or memorable. And the more he drawled on and on, the more I began to wonder about important things, like, where is Angelina?? What would she think about Brad and I being together? And what about his kids? Of course I never had a chance to ask any of those questions because Brad never once let me get a word in. I hope he's not offended that I'm saying this, but the guy is a real motor mouth.
So back to the sex...Unfortunately I don't remember that either one of us had an orgasm. I know I didn't. Also, the whole experience must have been pretty exhausting. It seemed like one minute we were gently and intimately rocking back and forth together and the next minute I was waking from a deep sleep. I guess I was so intoxicated by the experience that I forgot our big finale. At least I have the memories.
The more I've thought about it, the more amazing it is that Brad Pitt (!!) actually snuck into my bed. How did he find me? How did he know that it's been a very long time since I've been with someone? Being with him has made me realize how much I crave being with someone.
If Brad should happen to read this, I want to say a HUGE thanks to him for his secret visit. I just hope he's not offended that I said he talks too much. Brad, if it makes you feel any better: I'd much rather have you endlessly whispering in my ear, with my legs wrapped around your back, then to not have you at all. Is there any chance you'll visit me again tonight?