Dial Emma (Emma Watson)

[DarkSwordsman]

Dial Emma

Starring: Emma Watson

Mark set his empty glass down upon the freshly polished mahogany table as he rose from his leather seat.

“Gotta pee,” he declared, as he stumbled out drunkenly from his dimly lit booth.

“Make it quick, kid,” said Greg Porter, “it’s your round.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Mark replied, raising a hand in acknowledgement as he crossed the swanky Manhattan bar. 

Mark still wasn’t quite sure how he’d ended up here, but he was positive that he didn’t belong.  It was his first day as a junior copywriter at successful New York ad agency Porter and West and, as such, Porter, West and the rest of Mark’s senior colleagues had taken the young man out on the town to celebrate.  There had been a long standing initiation process at the agency since it was founded in the late 50’s; drag the new recruits out on a bar crawl, ply them with vodka Martinis, take them to the burlesque shows (which evolved into strip clubs) and watch them blow their first days pay on overpriced tits and ass.  Greg Porter and Kelvin West had been subjected to said treatment, by their fathers no less, when they joined the firm as young upstarts back in the mid 80’s, and when they took charge of the company following their fathers’ respective retirements they’d kept the tradition going. 

Mark was fresh out of college when he’d landed the position.  It was almost unheard of for a top Manhattan ad agency to hire non-Ivy Leaguers, but Porter and West had been so impressed by Mark’s portfolio that they’d hired him on the spot.  A BU graduate with a lower middle class upbringing in rural Minnesota, Mark was a far cry from the upstate New York rich kids from Harvard or Yale that Porter and West usually hired and, indeed, had been themselves when they joined the firm.  However, they weren’t adverse to a little diversity at the agency, and thought Mark’s unique background could bring something fresh and exciting to the firm.   

He’d only been in his position a day, but Porter and West was like nothing Mark had ever experienced before.  His family, his parent's friends and everyone he’d ever known had been simple folk; labourers, factory workers, homemakers.  Even his friends at college had backgrounds such as his.  His first day at Porter and West was the first time he’d encountered people with money; real money- the kind of money they could blow on lobster and champagne lunches and $100 drink rounds like it was nothing. 

What’s more, the level of excess on display was unprecedented.  Even in his freshman year at college, Mark had never witnessed such depravity.  Some of these men were 50-something years old, yet they ate like kings, drank like fish and smoked like chimneys.  Not to mention hoovering up line after line of Colombia’s finest in every bathroom of every bar they visitied.  And this way only his first day!  Mark couldn’t even begin to imagine what awaited him in his time at Porter and West, but he couldn’t wait to find out.

Mark pushed open the bathroom door, went into a stall and unzipped his pants.  He pissed like a ricehorse; five vodka Martinis streaming from the hole in his dick in one long gush.  Whilst he drained the lizard, something caught his eye; a small daubing etched on the toilet wall in black Magic Marker.  It read;

‘For the best blowjob of your life, dial Emma. 1332-414-7623’

He was intrigued.  As a young man who’d garnered a reputation amongst his female counterparts for his handsome, chiseled face, well muscled body and, most notably, his girthy ten inch penis, Mark had been with his fair share of women.  In fact, during high school and college, he had notched up an impressive tally of young ladies, all eights or above, who had feasted on his cock like a three course meal.  Though while many of the women in question were more than proficient in the art of felatio, Mark mantained that there was better out there; a true blowjob maestro with sucking skills to put most pornstars to shame, just waiting to milk his balls dry.   

It wasn’t the first time Mark had witnessed a woman offering the best blowjob of his life.  As a matter of fact, he’d had many a young lady make such a claim verbally, before dutifully dropping to their knees and getting to it.  However, while it was one thing for a girl to declare herself queen of the cocksuckers in the privacy of his BU dorm room, it was quite another to carve said claim onto a bathroom wall of a New York bar for all to see.  To do such a thing, the woman in question would have to boast blowjob skills that were second to none, he surmised.  Mark wasn’t sure if the writer of the bold claim was all talk, but he was more than willing to find out.  He took out his cell phone and dialed.

Emma Watson was stretched out on her luxury couch, her slipper-clad feet up on a glass coffee table, watching a movie and nursing a glass of vintage red as her phone rang beside her.  Clutching the phone in a neatly manicured hand, the brown-haired actress held it aloft to see who was interrupting her relaxing evening in.  She didn’t recognise the number displayed, but knowing full well the joys promised by an unknown number, Emma pushed the screen to receive the call. 

The brunette received calls of this nature almost every night of the week and it was, without fail, the highlight of her day.  After all, she was a self-proclaimed slut; a highly sexed young woman with a particular penchant for giving head.  She simply adored being on her knees, sucking away at a large penis.  In fact, she couldn’t get enough.

She’d had boyfriends in the past, but for a woman of such sexual ferocity, the whole relationship thing didn’t really work out.  In all her years of searching, Emma had failed to meet a man who’s sexual appetite even came close to hers.  Sure, her relationships would start great; fucking until all hours of the morning; sucking her man’s dick until it was spitting sawdust.  But before long, her boyfriends would grow tired of her wild, animalistic ways and would be almost begging her for mercy within a fortnight.

They’d want to do other things.  They’d watch ball games; too engrossed in what was happening on the TV to even allow Emma a suckle on their pink poles.  They’d want to hang out with their buddies, go out to dinner; boring shit that the young actress had simply no interest in.  She had a one track mind.  Dick, dick, dick; it was all she thought about. 

Before long, Emma gave up on relationships and tried her hand at casual sex.  She hit the bars and clubs every evening; fucking in bathrooms, sucking in the backs of taxis, taking home a different guy each night of the week.  However, the slut life was risky for a woman of such a high profile, and it was only a matter of time before her previous conquests came out of the woodwork; random dudes she’d boned weeks before threatening to sell stories on the Brit and the naughty things she did with her mouth. 

And that had been that.  A few pricks threatening to blab their dumb mouths had ruined the fun for everyone.  Emma’s sex life was the quietest it had ever been.  For weeks she was pinned to her bedsheets, wearing out vibrator after vibrator from overuse, going through batteries like nobody’s business.  Until she discovered the world of anonymous sex.

She’d done some research and, it turned out, there was a myriad of different ways in which a person could get their rocks off with a partner without said individual ever knowing who they were.  There were masked balls, fetish parties and, something which particularly caught her attention, gloryholes.  A gloryhole, it turned out, was a small hole drilled into a thin wall, usually that of a bathroom stall, through which a woman could give a man a blowjob without ever seeing his face, and vice versa.  It sounded perfect and, without further ado, Emma got to work.

She hired a carpenter to drill the holes, paying him a hefty tip to retain his discretion.  He travelled around New York City, drilling holes in every bathroom of every bar and nightclub he happened upon, cleaning up after himself and slipping out unnoticed like a ninja handyman.  It was the perfect crime.  When he was done, Emma started hitting the city’s nightsots once more.  She waited for a guy to enter the bathroom, and followed in behind him. 

From behind the toilet wall, she brought the hole to the man’s attention.  No red blooded male is going to say no to a blowjob, and they promptly fed their dicks through; their excited members met warmly by Emma’s talented young mouth.  She sucked them dry, slipping out before they recovered, being sure to leave her calling card etched across the toilet wall for all future comers (or should that be cummers?) to spot. 

Some places she steered clear from- seedy strip joints, dingy dive bars; anywhere she could pick up a fresh batch of genital warts from a toilet seat, but nevertheless, by the time she was finished there was a host of establishments throughout the five boroughs that bore a hole in the wall and her handwritten message.  Now it was up to Emma to determine which of these many nightspots this man was calling from.

“Where are you?” she asked, utilising every trick she’d picked up from her various voice coaches to mask her British accent as best she could.

Mark was taken aback by the peculiar way in which the mystery woman answered her phone, and decided to clarify if she was indeed the woman who had graffitied the bathroom stall. 

“Err...is this Emma?” he replied, somewhat sheepishly.

“This is Emma,” the Brit confirmed sternly, “now where are you?”

“Err...Manhattan,” Mark answered.

Emma scoffed.  “You’re gonna have to be more specific than that.”

“I’m in a bar called The Oak Room,” he responded.

“How big are you?” the actress asked.

“Excuse me?” Mark replied.

“You heard me, how big are you?”

“Errr...about 10 inches,” he declared. “I-I think anyway,” he stammered as an afterthought.  He didn’t really want the girl on the phone knowing he was a measurer.

Like anyone with such a ferocious appetite for cock would, Emma had grown to become something of a size queen in recent years.  If a penis was below eight inches the brunette just wasn’t interested and she’d had her time wasted by teeny dicked assholes so many times she’d devised a foolproof plan to weedle out the less endowed.

“Send me a picture,” Emma demanded.  “Use your hand for scale.”

“Err...OK,” said Mark. 

He slipped out his dick and snapped a picture, texting it straight to Emma.  The actress looked at the picture.  The penis therein was enormous; longer even than the hand beside it, with girth to match.  The image alone was enough to make her quiver, her loins tingling like those of a teenage boy discovering his father’s vintage Playboys.  She returned the phone to her ear.

“That better not be ripped from Google,” Emma warned, “‘cause I’ll bite down extra hard if you’re wasting my time.”

“It’s all me, honest,” Mark assured her.

“It better be.  Go in the stall nearest the door,” the actress instructed.  “I’ll be there in ten,” she added before hanging up.

The line went dead on Mark’s end.

“Hello? Hello?” he repeated to no avail.

That was easy, he thought.  Mark stepped out of the cubicle and found the stall Emma had requested.  It looked, on first glance, to be identical to the others, but then he saw it; a hole, three inches in diameter, sawn straight out of the toilet wall.  How had he missed that earlier?!  This certainly didn’t seem the kind of place to have a gloryhole in the bathroom, but there it was; a perfect circle, taped up around the edge, ready and waiting for his oversized penis.  This evening’s getting better and better, he thought to himself.

Emma Watson kicked off her slippers and leapt up from the couch.  She tossed off her satin nightgown and paraded across her lounge in her skimpy pink underwear.  The actress rooted through her closet in search of the sexiest dress she could find.  She settled upon a little black number and stepped into it, tugging the skimpy garment up her smoothly waxed legs and taut midriff. 

The dress clung to her slender body like an overbearing boyfriend.  The garment so tight and scanty it showcased every curve of her fit young frame; including her shapely hips, peachy ass and perky B cup chest.  Her nipples, already stiffening with excitement, poked right through the thin fabric, and the dress cut off just below the little round spheres of her ass, revealing her creamy white legs in all their long, slender glory. 

Emma slid into a pair of black stilettos, sprayed perfume and applied make up.  A thin layer of foundation, dabs of rouge to give her cheeks a rosy glow, dark mascara to bring out the browns of her eyes and pink gloss to give her lips an alluring shine.  She tied her silky chestnut hair up behind her head and put on a pair of designer shades.  She booked an Uber, grabbed her clutch bag and waited outside her swanky apartment block for it to arrive.  After five minutes it pulled up and she climbed in. 

The car pulled up to the sidewalk on the dimly lit Manhattan side street.  Emma thanked the driver and stepped out.  A tall doorman stood in the entrance to the bar and greeted her as she approached.

“Evening, ma,am.  I.D. please.”

Emma slid her shades down the bridge of her nose and peered over them at the doorman like a sexy school teacher.

“Are you serious?” she asked.

“OK, in you go,” he laughed, opening the heavy door for the A-list starlet.

Emma strolled past and through the open doorway.

“Asshole,” she muttered as she wandered inside.

The bar was quiet, save for a group of men in suits, their table littered with empty Martini glasses.  Emma headed for the bar, hearing the group’s wolf whistles and catcalls as she sat upon a leather bar stool.  A barman approached.

“What can I get you, Miss?”

“Old fashioned,” she replied.

“Comin’ right up.”

The barman mixed the drink and set it down in front of her, a thin drinking straw poking out the top.  Emma removed the straw and downed the strong beverage in one.  She reached into her clutch bag, slipped a $20 bill from her purse and left it on the varnished surface of the bar.  She headed for the bathrooms, checking the group of businessmen weren’t looking before slipping into the men’s. 

The bathroom was pristine.  The tiled floor glistened, the taps shone, the urinals sparkled.  Mark heard the clicking of high heels then a knock on the stall door.

“You in there?” came a soft feminine voice.

“Yeah,” he replied, sliding back the lock and inching the door open.

“No!” the woman snapped.  “Don’t open the door for goodness sake!”

“Oh, sorry,” Mark apologised, closing the door and locking it once more.

“Just stick your dick through that hole if you want to get it sucked,” the girl instructed.

“How much?” he asked.

Emma rolled her pretty hazelnut eyes.  “Do I look like a whore to you?” she replied in her best American accent.

“I haven’t seen you,” the man countered.

“Look,” Emma barked, “either stick that big dick through that hole or kindly go fuck yourself for wasting my time.  I haven’t got all night.”

“OK, OK.  Sorry,” Mark apologised once more.  One thing was for sure, if this girl sucked like she complained he was in for one hell of an evening!

Emma heard the sound of his fly unzipping.  Finally, she thought.  She watched the hole as a thick pink dickhead was fed through, followed by a long, girthy shaft, then a big set of low hanging balls, as the mystery man somehow squeezed the entirety of his oversized genitalia through the narrow gap.  He certainly hadn’t been lying about his size.  The guy was hung like an ox. 

Even in it’s semi flaccid state, his cock looked to measure a good seven or eight inches, with girth to rival even the most endowed of male pornstars.  His testicles were just as large; the round, spunk filled orbs looking like two Italian plums hanging either side of his dick.  Emma had sampled many a large penis in her time but, with this one, she’d really hit the jackpot.  Without further ado, she got down to business.

She gripped Mark’s long, soft cock at the base; more than half of his snake-like shaft flopping down past her thumb and forefinger, such was the length of the giant dong.  The actress parted her pink lips and allowed the spongy prickcrown inside.  She sucked eagerly at the head, feeling it grow and swell in her talented mouth, the veiny shaft stiffening as she ran a soft, dainty hand up and down its immense length.   

Mark cooed and groaned from inside the bathroom stall.  The woman, whoever she was, had only been going at his dick for a matter of seconds and already he was rock hard!  Her mouth felt simply amazing; like nothing he’d ever experienced before.  Soft, warm, wet.  Her hands as smooth and delicate as a baby’s ass.

With the dick now stiff as a board, Emma retrieved it from between her pouty lips, ready to have some fun with the oversized member as she teased the strange man.  She puckered her lips, and with her dainty little hand wrapped firmly around the thick base, whacked the round, swollen cockhead against her full set of pink dickpleasers. 

This was how Emma liked it; a big, thick, anonymous cock protruding from a hole in the wall.  No stupid dirty talking.  No asking if her male counterpart was enjoying it (she was having fun, that was all that mattered).  No eyes glaring down at her.  No gym goons flexing their pecs while she blew them.  No dumb jocks stockpiling stories to tell his moronic fraternity buddies.  No sad losers gathering intel of her ferocious dicksucking ways to flog to the nearest tabloid.  Just her and a dick.  Perfect.

Next, she angled the cock upwards, the horny starlet dipping down to get at his nuts as they hung against the cubicle wall.  She enveloped one of the big, bulging balls with her plump, hot pink lips.  She placed her hands on the wall and allowed the long, throbbing cock to rest against her pretty face as she sucked away at the large flesh orb. 

Emma slurped at the oversized gonad, slathering it in oodles upon oodles of thick warm spittle, releasing it from her lips with a loud *POP* before moving onto the next.  She felt Mark’s cock twitch and pulse against her face as she worked over his balls.  She sucked and drooled, slurped and slobbered; suckling on the big, jizz-filled pair like they’d been dipped in chocolate sauce. 

The Brit was having the time of her life; moans, groans and a host of wanton noises escaping her busy mouth as she chowed down on the giant nutsack.  Next, Emma gripped the low hanging ball bag in her clenched fist.  The randy starlet clasped the sagging sac in her soft, silky hand like a bunch of daffodils; the big, swollen orbs poking out past her thumb and index finger.  She attacked the nuts like a family dog spotting two stray Swedish meatballs under the dinner table.

She tongued and sucked, licked and slurped at the giant testicles, reaching up to stroke Mark’s fat, lengthy cock as she feasted on his balls.  By the time Emma released his nuts from her vice-like grip, the oversized pair were dripping like a leaky faucet, and she kept a hand on the spit-slicked sac as she returned her mouth to his thick, long cock.  Emma wrapped her pouty pink lips around the bulbous head, tonguing eagerly at the oozing tip.  She put her hands to good use; fondling the big, bulging balls with one hand while the other roamed up and down the length of his cock. 

Mark was dumbfounded by the miracles the mystery girl was capable of performing with her soft, satiny hands.  In fact, had he not been able to see just the one pair of stilettos underneath the cubicle wall, he’d have been convinced it was actually two women working him over from the other side, such was the dexterity exhibited by the horny actress. 

Emma began to bob her pretty brown head, guiding her plump, pillowy lips up and down the shaft, accommodating more of the fat, long member with each pass, slurping at it like a child with a popsicle.  What she didn’t suck, she jerked; her dainty hand running up and down the remaining length of the shaft as she slurped at the oversized penis. 

Before long, Emma had placed both hands on the wall, leaving all ten inches of the girthy shaft free for her greedy mouth.  She worked her lips up and down the lengthy cock; moaning and groaning, sucking and slurping as she swallowed down Mark’s girthy flesh pole.  To anyone watching from behind, unable to hear the muffled, wanton dicksucking noises escaping her busy mouth, it may have appeared as though the actress was performing a new kind of exercise against the toilet wall; some sort of vertical press up- the feminine biceps in her arms rippling and popping as she worked her mouth up and down the length of the penis.

Mark gazed skyward, breathing heavily, cooing like a ringdove as he was worked over; the woman attacking his dick with the ferocity of a hungry lioness.  Emma sucked the cock down like a pro, the brunette seeing inch after inch away like the giant schlong measured but the length of a cocktail weenie.  Emma looked down at the remaining meat left before her; two inches, maybe three.  The starlet gave one final push and, like a sword swallower dispensing of a freshly sharpened blade, she made the lengthy cock disappear. 

Her nose pressed against the toilet wall.  All ten of Mark’s thick, veiny inches were lodged inside her ultra talented mouth with room to spare.  Emma was, quite literally, eating him raw and gagging for more.  If she could’ve extended his penis another inch or two and swallowed those down to, she would have.  In fact, there seemed to be no limits to what her mouth was capable of.  She could probably have sucked down a London bus if given half the chance. 

But Emma wasn’t done yet, not by a long shot.  She worked her lips back up to the head so only the bulging, ping pong ball-sized crown remained within the confines of her mouth, before plunging back down, all the way back down to hilt of Mark’s fat, lengthy cock.  She rinsed and repeated this process; taking deepthroating pass after deepthroating pass on the strange dick.  She sucked wildly at the thick, vein encrusted shaft as she went; drooling, slobbering, slathering every inch in her thick, warm spittle. 

Mark gripped the tops of the stall walls; as if he feared his entire body would be sucked through the round hole less he cling on as tightly as he could.  If he hadn’t known better, he’d have suspected the mystery woman was trying to suck his internal organs out through the tip of his penis, such was the ferocity with which she went at his big, fat dong.  Wild, savage, brutal, merciless; all words that adequately described Emma’s blowjob technique.  Mark could scarcely believe the sounds coming from behind the wall; a barrage of slurps and sucks, moans and groans louder and more wanton in nature than he’d heard in any porno movie.   

While Mark was in awe of Emma’s oral abilities, the actress was similarly impressed by him.  Not just the size of his cock, but the restraint he was capable of showing.  By now Emma had blown more men than she could count and not one had made it through the deepthroat phase of her suckjob repertoire unscathed.  Every time it was the same; her soft pink lips would wrap around the base and that would be it.  She heard a pathetic whimper from within the bathroom stall, before a rich, creamy load was shot straight down her throat.

As much as Emma enjoyed swallowing cum, her completion method of choice was the facial.  She just loved the hot, thick, sticky feeling on her pretty face.  A good money shot, however, was almost always out of the question.  Once inside Emma’s masterful mouth, scores of fully grown men exhibited all the self-control of a teenage virgin, and no sooner had their dicks started pulsing, had they blown their wad down her esophagus.

This guy, however, she could tell was different, and the thought of all that hot, gloopy semen dripping down her face excited the horny actress.  Though as eager as she was for a thick facial blast, Emma wasn’t done playing with the dick just yet, and there was plenty more fun to be had before it was time to wrap up.  Mark’s impressive degree of restraint had afforded the brunette more time to delve deeper into her bag of oral tricks and, as such, some of her lesser used techniques were given an airing.

First, Emma puckered her lips and smacked Mark’s cockhead against them, before rubbing the throbbing crown back and forth across the pink pair; making all kinds of lewd noises in the process.   She stuck out her tongue, slapping the swollen prickcrown against the moist red flesh before feeding it back into her mouth. 

Emma wrapped her smooth, silky hands around the spit slicked shaft, and worked them back and forth from the base to the head and back down again.  *SCHLOCK* *SCHLICK* *SCHLUCK* came the sounds from her dainty paws as she jerked off the well hung stranger; her lips pursing as she sucked at the head, her tongue lapping eagerly at his wide open dickhole. 

There were many things in her life that Emma was proud of.  She took pride in her looks; taking regular trips to various high end spas and salons for a host of expensive procedures; manicures, pedicures, teeth whitening, facials and extravagant hairstyling. She took pride in her body; keeping firmly to a strict diet of healthy eating and spending countless hours in gyms, aerobics groups and yoga classes across New York and London. She took pride in her luxury apartment, her shiny new car, her acting talent, her charity work and tireless efforts in the feminist community.

But, more than anything, Emma was proud of her oral prowess. When she wasn't gracing glory holes throughout the five boroughs, the brunette was practicing at home; amassing a collection of dildos to help hone her deepthroat technique, or watching hour after hour of pornography and picking up innumerable pointers from her professional dick sucking counterparts along the way.  The result was a taut and toned, primped and preened vixen who treated felatio like a sport, boasting sucking skills to put even the most experienced of high class call girls to shame, and more tricks and magic spells than her character in the Harry Potter movies. 

Next, Emma pointed the cock ceilingward so she could get at the balls once more.  Mark’s pork sword was so long that his bulbous pink prickhead poked out above her head, and the naughty brunette reached up to knead the pulsing crown as she sucked on his nuts.  She sucked, slobbered and gobbled at the big, cum churning orbs one by one, before feeding both into her skilled mouth at once; suckling upon the shaven pair like large boiled candies.

Emma didn’t seem to have any qualms about Mark’s long, fat cock resting against her pretty face.  In fact, she seemed to actually enjoy the feeling of the throbbing meat against her features, even going so far as to slap the girthy, spit shined member against her rosy cheeks before returning it to her greedy mouth. 

She sucked and jerked, slurped and stroked, drooled, slobbered and sucked some more.  The starlet’s mouth formed little more than a moist flesh sheath around Mark’s long pink pistol.  Her magnificent maw vacuumed his dick like a top of the range Dyson; the horny actress showcasing sucking skills that would drain lesser mortals of every ounce of fluid in their bodies in a matter of minutes.

Mark, though, was hanging tough.  Emma was beginning to wonder if there was anything she could do to make the strange man cum and was starting to believe that she could have sucked him all night without him spewing his spunk (something she was prepared to do, by the way). If the starlet could've seen his face, though, it would've told a different story altogether.

At this point, Mark looked as though he’d been chewing on a stinging nettle for the past half an hour; his face contorting in all kinds of unsightly ways as the skilled brunette blew him six ways from Sunday.  He gripped the top of the toilet wall so firmly the entire stall began to shake.  Emma feared the cubicle door may come crashing down, leaving her squatted frame reflected in the adjacent row of mirrors. 

The actress felt this cock pulse, twitch and quiver in her mouth and hands, and knew that, finally, her hidden counterpart was ready to blow.  She retrieved his throbbing dick from her mouth and pointed the pink flesh barrel at her face as she began to jerk him off.  She reached down to fondle his balls; feeling a thick, hot spermload brewing in the plum-sized orbs as she stroked his girthy cock. 

She could hear Mark mewling and groaning from inside the stall; the cubicle shaking in its moorings as he clung on for dear life.  Emma watched the eye of his dick winking back at her as it prepared to shoot its goo.  She spat a thick torrent of saliva onto the veiny shaft as she vigorously jacked his pulsating penis, fondling his big, heavy, cum churning balls as she did so. 

And then, finally, he erupted.  A jet of hot, off white semen shot from the hole in his dick, hitting Emma full in the face; the thick, creamy mess splashing across her nose and cheek.  Her face lit up as more spunk spewed from the open slit; this time the brunette aiming Mark’s cock downwards, so the second spurt splattered across her lips and chin.  His dick continued to spasm, and Emma pointed it at her forehead, allowing the final squirt to streak her brow and get caught in her lengthy eyelashes. 

She heard Mark panting through the toilet wall; the mystery man wheezing like an asthmatic who’d misplaced his inhaler.  Knowing full well that no blowjob was complete until the male was bone dry, Emma gripped his cock and wrapped her lips around the head.  She sucked at the sensitive crown, coaxing out the last few droplets of spunk from the urethra before swallowing them down.  With her business taken care of, the actress rose to her feet.

“Wait in there,” she ordered, adopting her US accent once more.  “Don’t come out until you hear me leave.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Mark replied.

He wanted more than anything to throw the door open and set his eyes upon the vicious vixen that had just eaten his dick for dinner, but he thought better of it.  Blatant disregard of her instructions would almost certainly result in a blocking of his phone number, or worse (if she could give head like that who knew what else she was capable of), and one thing was for sure; he would definitely be requiring her services again.     

Emma set her handbag down atop the marble countertop between two gleaming white basins and took out a pack of wet wipes.  She cleaned her face, went into the stall next to Mark’s and flushed the wipes down the toilet.  The brunette returned to the vanity to re-apply her makeup.  She reached into her clutch bag and retrieved her foundation, not noticing that something else had slipped out of the designer accessory in the process and landed on the floor at her feet.

Mark heard the bathroom door swing shut and deemed it safe to emerge from the stall.  He crossed the bathroom floor and leant against the marble counter.  He stared at himself in the spotlessly clean mirror, still trying to get his head around the world class suckjob he’d just received. 

Then, something caught his eye on the floor between his freshly buffed brogues.  A small white plastic card lay face down atop the shiny tiled floor.  He bent down to pick it up and turned it over.  It was a New York driver’s licence belonging to a Miss Emma Watson; a clear photo of the world famous actress printed across the left side of the card.

“Holy shit!” Mark gasped.  He fetched his phone from his pocket and shot a photo of the licence, then went back into the stall, snapping pictures of the hole and the graffiti etched across the toilet wall.  He scrolled through the photos on his phone and grinned.  “The press are gonna love this!”