Presents From Emma (Emma Stone)

[Robertdoc]

Presents From Emma

Originally published December 2014

Dec 17, 2014

"Happy birthday!"

Pretty much everyone was required to say those words to me today. Even strangers who heard what today was. Including this one.

Technically, it should mean more when family and loved ones say it. But hearing it from this stranger, in this context, was still the highlight of my birthday and a top highlight of my recent life -- at least it seemed to be at the time.

Before then, it had been enough to get tickets for "Cabaret" on Broadway on the date of my 30'th birthday. It was mainly a big thing because Emma Stone -- the celebrity I'd idolized and written about the most over the last few years -- was starring in it.

But as much as I looked forward to seeing her sing live about 100 feet away from me for over two hours, I mainly dreamed of seeing her about two feet in front of me for about 10 seconds. That would happen after the show, when I would get a good spot behind the barricade in back of the theater -- before she came out to sign Playbills for fans like me.

None of those fans were like me, though. Maybe one or two of them had a birthday today too, but I doubted they wrote extensively about her. Or if they did, it wasn't in smutty stories that were consistently among my highest rated.

That should have made me feel very awkward and creepy, in truth. Being that close to someone I lusted and loved, and wrote about in so many dirty but steamy and sexy scenarios. It should have made me feel a different kind of nerves and a different kind of star struck than normal.

But that had nothing to do with this -- at least I prayed it wouldn't. There was only one thing I'd have time to say to her when she signed my Playbill, and only one thing I wanted to say to her.

I practiced my lines to myself for days before getting to New York. I practiced it in my head one more time while waiting outside after the show. And when Emma came out of the building, with her red hair up in a bun despite how it was already shorter than usual, and with a light trench coat on after prancing around in black dresses, frilly pink robes and....thought provoking stockings on stage, my own personal curtain came up.

I said my lines right on cue after she reached me and took my Playbill. "Today's my 30'th birthday. Coming here and seeing you was my present, so thank you."

And as I hoped, she responded with a "Happy birthday!" with genuine warmth in her amazing voice -- even after using it to sing and speak in theatrical accents for the last two hours. Between that and getting her signature, my birthday wish was complete.

Yet in the one split second I had left, I got greedier. Despite how she had other fans waiting for autographs next to me, I still asked for a picture. And still she accepted.

I had to put my camera away when Emma came out, so I quickly took it out and gave it to the person next to me. I promised everyone else we'd be quick, as I put my back to the barricade and Emma leaned closer to me behind it, getting into frame.

I had to make myself stare at the camera and not at Emma. Once I printed out the picture and framed it, I'd have proof forever that Emma stood next to me and smiled with me. But seeing it on a frame wasn't the same as the real deal.

I had to avoid getting distracted anyway, and I did. I figured that would be that -- until Emma said that she had one more song left in her.

After getting my name, she then used it in the third verse of the Birthday Song. So did everyone else she told to sing along with her.

When the serenade was finished, my temporary cameraman took another picture of me and Emma -- right when she kissed my cheek. I snapped out of my daze just as the applause ended and she had to go over to the next very patient fan.

I snapped out of it in time to say, "Thank you! Good luck with the show and Oscar season!" It wasn't as rehearsed or planned as my first line, obviously. But she thanked me anyway, giving me one more smile and happy glint from her piercing green eyes.

My eyes finally broke from Emma, if only to take my camera back. It then came to me to ask if anyone had actually recorded the song on their phone. When the second person I asked said yes, I got her to e-mail the file to my phone.

I relieved the song and kiss on my brand new phone just as Emma made her way to her car on the curb. She briefly talked with someone before looking back at us -- and I could have sworn it was right at me. Regardless, she smiled and thanked everyone again before getting in and closing the door.

I figured that was that, so I left the crowd to start walking back to my hotel. That is, until the man who talked to Emma came right over me. He gave me an address and told me to take a cab there, and I had no response to that before he left.

Eventually, I did decide to do what he said and hail a cab to the address. I greatly resisted the urge to get on my phone and look up where it actually was, telling myself I wanted to be surprised. Maybe it was because if this wasn't a case of Emma inviting me to....somewhere private, I didn't want to rule it out sooner than I had to.

But it was popped anyway when we arrived. It was some of kind restaurant/club, not a hotel or anywhere else people could have secret sex in. Then again....

I shook it up, paid my fare and got in before my imagination ran away again. I could have been excused for thinking it did anyway, when I actually saw Emma come up to greet me. She mentioned I must have gotten her message, but her black dress, heels and her being Emma Stone nearly blocked that out.

I did manage to hear clearly that her and her cast mates were here for a cast party. And with Andrew Garfield either away in London or on a shoot -- that part I blanked on -- she figured there was an extra invitation I could fill.

It really started to sound absurd at this point. I almost said it was something right out of my smutty stories, but I fortunately caught myself.

Instead, I just commented on how she did all this for someone she didn't know. But she figured I had time to give her more to go on before the others arrive. Indeed, I got the essentials out there, and seemed to entertain her with them, before the rest of the cast showed up.

The next hour or two was a real blur. I remember snippets of specific conversations with people who weren't Emma, and snippets of talks with her too. The overall dizzying feeling of being here, with these people thanks to Emma -- who I was also with -- overwhelmed my specific memory, though. It all blurred together in one big, non alcoholic high.

I shouldn't have thought about anything other than Emma and all this. Technically, what I thought of did have something to do with Emma, though. Mainly, the new story I wrote about her just before I left, and which went up today -- or as of five minutes ago, yesterday.

At that point, I was so giddy I figured I could get away with it. With everything that went right tonight, I figured I could go to an empty booth, go on my new phone, log onto the site with my story and check to see how it was doing. If I got it out of the way now, it wouldn't distract me for the rest of my time with her -- or so I talked myself into believing.

So I logged onto the site and did my checking up. But as always when I'm on the Internet, on any device, I got tunnel vision. One planned second on there turned into a few minutes and blocked out everything else.

Everything like Emma coming up behind me, seeing me log onto the site, and seeing what particular site I'd logged in on. And seeing what my screen name was on it.

At the time, I didn't notice her behind me. She was gone by the time I logged off and got up, yet I thought nothing of it when I came back to the cast and she wasn't there. I figured maybe she left or had something come up to distract her.

That something was her borrowing a Kindle and looking up my stories -- and who starred in many of them.

I only figured that out when she came back over and asked me to follow her. In truth, I actually only figured it out when she led me into a closet, held up the Kindle she borrowed and showed me my latest story of her on it.

I froze up, although I think one "fuck" came out of my mouth. It was the most fitting and most idiotic choice of word.

Emma put down the Kindle and just looked at me, with anger and....something else in her eyes. I didn't have time to decrypt it before she slapped me, though.

She did look shocked and sorry a second later, but then reverted back to anger. Why should she feel sorry for someone who she sang for and went above and beyond for, before he turned out to be a massive pervert? A massive pervert with massively disgusting thoughts and words about her, for all the Internet to see.

Then that something else came back into her eyes. Then another something else. Her eyes and face were always so expressive and full of life, but there were too many conflicting expressions for me to handle. Then again, my discomfort likely had nothing on hers when she read what I had her do.

I could have defended myself, my right to free speech and the fact that it was all clearly fiction -- if I had any actual time to think. Since none was coming, I could only wait for Emma to slap me again, yell at me or do both at once.

And then she went and kissed me instead.

She pulled me right up against her and virtually shoved her lips against mine. It didn't really hit me until about three seconds after she broke off. By then, she was panting and back to staring at me with all those conflicting looks.

I should have asked what the hell that was, what the hell she was thinking, what the hell she wanted, an obligatory question about her boyfriend, etc. But words still escaped me.

Once it all hit me, however, it was clear words would only ruin....whatever was happening.

When I took a chance and slightly leaned in closer, Emma grabbed me and pushed our lips together again. This time, she backed us up until she was pressed against the nearest wall. This time, I was able to press my body and lips back.

I was just starting to actually savor it, until Emma broke off and put a hand on my pants at the same time. She then took my other hand and put it on the bottom of her dress. Once the hand on my pants touched my zipper, my orders were clear.

I rolled up the bottom of Emma's dress, reaching her crotch and her panties just as she got her hand into my open fly. I desperately tried to reach the top of her panties and pull them down, but she succeeded in getting my cock out first.

With strength I'd never understand, I managed to get her panties down and brush my finger against her pussy, even while she quickly jacked me off. Somehow, I focused enough to put my finger into her as well, pumping her with about 70 percent the intensity that she used on me.

I briefly looked down at her hand stroking my cock, and at her dress covering my hand as it finger-fucked her. Of course, I had to look up soon enough to maintain some self-control. However, looking at Emma's face as it panted, nearly turned as red as her hair and helped her eyes cloud over with lust wasn't any more helpful.

Listening to her was even worse. She obviously had to keep it down, since this technically was a public place. As such, her groans and pants were low, husky, quietly passionate and perhaps the sexiest thing I'd ever heard. Exactly as I'd written it so many times -- only it exposed just how inadequate a writer I really was.

At this rate, I'd prove quite inadequate as a man in just a few seconds. So with that last reserve of strength, I shoved my finger completely in her pussy and fucked her harder, brushing my thumb over her as well. Hoping against hope she'd come close to cumming before I exploded.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Emma barely kept low enough, while tightening around my finger, riding it and squeezing my cock. With that, any pretense at self control was gone.

I groaned and laid my head down on her shoulder, watching my hidden hand and her exposed hand pump faster. I still heard Emma pant, however, eventually making out the word "Cum" over and over.

"Yes!" I heard myself answer her, before virtually blacking out.

I saw Emma push my cock down, pointing it to the ground right as I started shooting off. All my cum landed below us, away from her dress and skin.

"Oh fuck...." I heard her react, as her hips went up and down on my finger -- and then coated it with her own release.

On that, my eyes closed as I groaned into Emma's shoulder, barely keeping upright. Eventually, my hand was released from between Emma's legs, with my finger pretty much dripping cum and juices onto my own cum on the ground.

The two of us stayed together, catching our breath with both our heads down. But we'd have to lift them up eventually -- and face each other after what we had done. What she had started despite being so mad at me. If that was really it.

I looked up and locked eyes with Emma once more, this time seeing exhaust, a slight glow in her eyes and face -- and an increasing look of shock. I was surprised it took this long for her to come to her senses, I supposed.

But again, she defied my worst fears. Instead of panicking out loud, getting mad or getting upset with me or herself, she just stayed quiet and made her way out of the closet. No words, no explanations, no apologies or thanks, no warning to keep this quiet -- nothing.

She did come back a few seconds later -- but only to get that borrowed Kindle back. If either of us had cum on it, then we'd be screwed.

She thought ahead to get it back, so I figured I'd have to think ahead and clean up all that....DNA evidence. I got out a hankie and tried to wipe all the cum and fluids from the ground, seeming to do just good enough. I then left the closet -- late enough after Emma to avoid suspicion, I hoped -- and threw it away.

I supposed if no one else saw me after Emma dragged me away, it might look bad. Therefore, I went back to see the others, and saw Emma back there as well -- apparently saying good night to them.

I put myself on autopilot then and there, so I wouldn't do anything at all. When she came to me and said happy birthday one more time -- without as much genuine joy this time -- I nodded and thanked her instead of asking her anything at all. When she gave me a brief hug, I lightly patter her back instead of holding her, whispering anything or thinking about anything at all.

When she walked away, I did my best not to linger at her, think about what happened, think about how I'd never see her or clear anything up again -- or think about anything at all, really. And when she was gone, I made sure to stay for about 10 more minutes before leaving myself.

I stayed on autopilot during the cab ride back, during my futile attempts to sleep at the hotel, and during the trip back home to Philadelphia. In fact, I was pretty sure I made myself stay blank for the next week, burying myself in work, Christmas stuff and only the briefest talks in person and online about my trip. In additional fact, I didn't even visit my smut sites or work on my end of the year stories.

By Christmas Day, I figured I was just numb enough to start being functional again. I still left the TV on while in bed so I wouldn't have any quiet time to think, and I tried my best to masturbate to my other top crushes. I figured I'd convince myself it was all some crazy hallucination by New Years.

Then came Christmas morning and a knock on my front door.

Then came the moment when I knew I'd gone crazy. Crazy enough to see a redhead with sunglasses, a long brown coat, black boots and a big brown bag at my doorstep. I sighed and went with it, if only to get it out of the way.

I realized I wasn't crazy, and that it really was Emma Stone, at about the same time she sat on my couch. A split second later, I realized my sanity was the least of my concerns now.

"You had your tickets delivered here. It didn't take me long to track you down," Emma explained. "But I had to wait till Christmas for a free day. Imagine that."

"My imagination...." I said without thinking. I didn't need to finish saying it was the problem for her to know it.

"Your....imagination is your imagination. When I saw what it was, I reacted to the....sketchy part of it first. Hence the...." She finished by slapping the air. "I....reacted to the other parts of it after that."

"And I'm still the only one who knows about it. I always will be," I assured, before the yelling still surely to come. "I'm not that kind of pig."

"I know. I read the proof," Emma said. That seemed encouraging enough for me to sit down near her.

"What you do isn't the most exploitive or sexist way to treat people like me. It's not on a naked photo hacking level, anyway," she stated. "It's really offensive on a few levels, though. I'm sure you know that." I nodded instantly, gearing up for my lecture.

"But there are....more offensive ways to do this than others. I'm sure you know that too," she said instead.

"I've read more than a few examples," I confirmed.

"I did too. It's not what I read that night, though," Emma continued. "It's not what I read again and again over the last week while I sorted this out. What I read...." she gathered herself to finish, "I'm hot!"

"Well...." it really went without saying.

"No, I mean I'm hot!" she laughed. "And I'm goofy, funny, level headed for the most part....I mean, I'm not some horny skank! Your guys have to work for me! And you don't make me miserable so I'll pity fuck you! You don't make those other girls a wreck either! Except the ones that already are!"

"Some of that can't be avoided," I mutter.

"Right! But you do with me! You....put some thought into it! Okay, maybe you're not the only one, maybe! But I got one of the good ones! If you weren't....so much would have been different," she concluded. "In a lot of ways."

I couldn't begin to juggle all the ways. Yet Emma tried anyway. "You could have acted like a real sick jackass. You could have checked me out in much less subtle ways. You could have started that incident, even if I didn't want you to! It's really fucking awful there are such low standards for this stuff, but there it is!"

I could only nod and agree for a while. Then I added, "I guess I shouldn't get credit just for being normal. For treating you like a normal woman. I mean, my kind of people....most of us are normal too. Not all, but most. Kind of like actresses. You're one of the good stable ones, and I try to be too."

"That's what gets the fingers typing for you? The good stable ones?" Emma asked. "You seem to write about them more than the crazy ones. Even the ones who keep their crazy secret. Or they think they do," she actually chuckled.

"I guess I have no right to ask for names," I admitted. "But yeah. I mean, some of them I just want to write about fucking. Nothing else. The ones I keep writing about? There's more to go on for me."

"Like their voice? Or hair? Legs? Ass? Those seem to come up a lot," Emma noted.

"With good reason," I was ready to admit to her. "But when those are attached to people who aren't brainless or talentless....who clearly have more to offer than just looks and star power....who can look and sound so sexy and still be goofy and silly....and who you can sense would be sweet enough to sing birthday songs to strangers and let them meet their friends, even before they do it....it's more inspiring."

"Yeah. That comes across," Emma admitted.

"I mean, you can love imagining doing dirty, sexy things with them. With them, not just to them. And....it might really, really live up to it," I let myself confess. "You also imagine taking your time with them, too. Really savoring and enjoying every beautiful part, sound, touch, taste....doing it fast and slow, sweet and hard core, with lust and actual care....all of that mixed in with the right....subject would be mind blowing. So that's what I try to make these things feel like."

"Yeah. That comes across," Emma repeated, actually making the both of us laugh.

"See, there you go!" I said, amazed I could laugh and keep my pulse down even after admitting all that. Her ability to do that too -- even while clearly being as affected as I was -- still helped make my pulse race anyway.

"I thought about those mind blowing theories more than I should have. And when they weren't just theories," Emma made me race further. "Between that and still being angry at you, and at myself, it wasn't always fun. But when the fun won out, I had to come down here and see if....there weren't really more reasons to be angry. At you or me."

"And what did you see?" I asked cautiously.

"Nothing I didn't really already know," Emma said as she inched closer. "What I'm wondering now? Probably isn't nothing I don't know either. I mean, I read all about it. I felt it. But when I felt it, I only got a small part of it, didn't I?"

"I'd like to believe that," I said honestly, and with hope I hadn't dared to let myself have. Not that I didn't really, really want to.

"Okay," Emma said quietly, getting ever closer. "So....you're writing a story about some star visiting someone for Christmas. Someone who needs to get certain things out of their system, on their one day off. If you wanted to make it look really hot, and make it worth the readers time and the star's time....what would you do? And what would you want her to do?"

She got within a few inches of me and asked, "If she's open to almost anything....what would you want her and you to do?"

"Everything," I blurted out. "I mean, everything within the almost anything!" I corrected, causing her to giggle. It was infectious enough that I could have ravaged her all over again, much more thoroughly this time. But it was sweet and timely enough that I caught myself and thought more clearly.

"The first thing a good writer would do is know their character. Know that he knows....he's damn lucky and grateful to even answer those questions. So he has to do it exactly right while he can," I kept pretending I wasn't talking about me, though it couldn't really last much longer.

"He would want to really appreciate everything. He'd want her to tell her everything she'd appreciate. He'd want her to run her mouth in every way. And he'd want...." I struggled to pick just one more thing as her face got closer.

"You'd want," Emma finally ended the pretense for me, right as her lips touched my cheek. "I want to know what you'd want too...." she confessed as her lips brushed mine.

"I want you to kiss me," I strained to say. "Not like in New York. Just like...." Emma didn't need further instructions. Neither did I.

These kisses weren't out of control with bursting passion. Yet I felt the passion in Emma's soft, full lips in other ways, Namely that I could actually take in how they tasted, savor them pressing against me and savor Emma's body pressing into mine. For that matter, I could actually put my arms around it and feel it, despite how it was still hidden under her coat.

But now I could kiss her deep and slow enough to feel and hear her moan on my lips. I could put my hand on her face and bring it to that luscious, tempting red hair of hers at last -- dyed or not. She could put her hands on my face and the side of my neck, holding my head gently and navigating her lips so wonderfully over mine.

When her tongue got into my mouth, I couldn't keep myself upright any longer. I fell onto my back on the couch with Emma on top of me, not missing a beat. However, she did stop and sit back up after a few more moments.

"Maybe a coat isn't the best thing to wear for this after all," Emma said. "Do you mind?"

I just nodded yes, sliding back and giving Emma room. Instead of going for her coat first, she went to take off her boots. When they were gone, I realized her slender legs were covered by stockings -- very familiar ones.

I figured it out the split second Emma removed her coat -- revealing the black lingerie she performed in on stage. This time, I suspected it was meant to be sexy and seductive on purpose, for a more private audience without any singing. Not of Broadway songs, anyway.

"Damn it, still a little cold," Emma stated. I nearly rolled my eyes, if only to do something other than gawk and drool. She then went into her brown bag and made me drool further, taking out the frilly pink robe she wrote in her opening number.

Once she put it on, the contrast between her pink top and sultry, leggy bottoms was maddening. "You know what? I might need to go upstairs to test this out," Emma suggested. "Do you mind?"

I merely shook my head and leapt to my feet, taking Emma's hand and leading her upstairs. By the time I got there, however, I made myself think clearer while there was still time. When I remembered how out of control I was before, and how I wanted/needed to do it differently now, I had something fully fleshed out by the time we got into my bedroom.

Speaking of full flesh....

I closed the door and then put Emma right against it, slowly sliding my hands over her robe. I took in the silky fabric, pictured the fabric underneath that and the soft, slim, lovely figure underneath that. I then slid my hands over her chest, briefly thinking I could feel the nipples underneath.

My left hand went down to feel another private part down below. When it got between her legs, it parted her robe to actually feel her panties. "This looks familiar," Emma noted.

"Trust me, it looks.....and it's going to feel...." I hinted. Wanting to get to it before I threw away the plan, I placed my left fingers on the top of her undergarment, while putting my right hand on her face and neck before kissing her.

My fingers started dipping into Emma's garment, as my tongue started dipping into her mouth. Emma opened hers and welcomed my tongue with hers, groaning against me. It vibrated even more when I slipped the tip of my left index finger against her lower lips.

Our upper lips parted as my finger went in deeper, triggering a soft, "Fuck" from her. I started kissing, suckling and lightly nibbling her upper lips, while her lower ones parted and took more of my finger in. Emma soon laid her head against the door, letting out a long, delicious groan as I teased another finger against her.

My lips went up and down her cheek, with my right hand holding her hair and then rubbing it against my cheek. It made me bury my face into her neck, resting and suckling and listening to her encouraging noises. I could have rested there until the end, but it wasn't enough yet.

I made myself take my fingers out of Emma, then drop to my knees. I looked up, taking in the top half of her outfit before staring right at the bottom. There in front of me were the long, lovely legs I'd lusted after for about four years, in the black, sexy stockings I'd lusted over for about a few months.

But it was the few inches of smooth, creamy exposed skin on the top of her left leg that I kissed and nuzzled against. Meanwhile, my left hand caressed and rubbed the back of her stocking covered leg, while my right hand palmed the exposed upper thigh of her right leg.

"Oh....oh shit, that's new," Emma stated the obvious. I added to it by sliding my right fingers into her panties, to pick up where my left ones left off. It was harder to put them in the right place in this position, however. The problem was more with the panties, though.

I took my face off of her leg and my hand out of her panties, needing to unhook the stockings. When I did, I could start taking her panties down, leaving her pussy bare while keeping the stocking on. At that point, I put both hands on her bare upper legs and laid my face into her bare pussy.

"That's better," I groaned into her while eating her out.

"Fuck, it is...." Emma agreed, arching herself against me. I covered my lips against hers, then went back and forth kissing and nibbling her thighs and upper legs. When I returned to her pussy, my hands slid up and down her covered legs, feeling the various silks and curves and fueling me to eat her faster.

I brought myself to stop eventually, getting up with Emma's juices and tastes fresh on my mouth. I stood up and let Emma taste herself on me as well, inserting two of my left fingers into her at the same time. When we broke, I took my fingers out and put them up to lick them clean.

"Go on," Emma panted, but I didn't. Instead, now that my hands were clean, I let them go back onto Emma's robe and lingerie, eventually helping her slip the robe off. I hissed as I slid up and down her waist, her chest and her hips, getting to feel every inch of her I didn't have time to feel before. I had missed one big part so far, though.

My hands went around her, going down her back until they reached her ass -- which I now remembered was bare. Bare and perfectly full, round and sweet as a peach. "Oh, fuck me...." I reacted.

"You're stealing my line," Emma responded. "Instead of doing things like...."

But I was way ahead of her, kneeling back down to lick her anew while holding her ass. She moaned louder and pushed herself on my face, as if I wasn't already trying to get closer.

"You want to hear what I want?" Emma asked. "I don't want to cum on the ground. Or your fingers. I want to cum right into your mouth this time. Then I want you to cum in mine...."

"Jesus...." I snapped. I also took my left hand off her ass and put it right on her pussy, fingering her while licking beside it. My right hand stayed on her ass, squeezing and jiggling it.

When my left hand stopped, I took my wet fingers out and smeared her juices on her bare upper leg, licking it clean and licking it even after that for good measure. I fingered her with my right hand in the meantime, then smeared the juices from those fingers on her upper right leg, where I licked that off next.

"Fuck, I feel it coming...." Emma warned, yet I kept my mouth on her leg and left her pussy unattended. "Come on, come on.....am I gonna have to do this my- "

No, she wouldn't.

I made sure of it by burying my face between her legs, right when she didn't expect it. My tongue went inside her rapidly while my hands had their way with her legs, reaching back to her ass right as my tongue went in all the way.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Emma told me for the second time in eight days, only much louder. And this time, she capped it off right onto my mouth, as she wanted.

I swallowed and licked up her release, hearing Emma exhale quickly as it washed over her. When it finished washing over my mouth, I licked my lips and then licked her as well. After I appeared done, I just rested my face on her, slowly letting my hands go down her ass and down the back of her legs.

"Oh fuck....oh man," I heard Emma exclaim. I looked up and started to see her laugh too. Maybe the absurdity of it all finally hit her -- which could be for the best or worst.

For now, it all looked good as Emma went from sultry vixen to laughing goofball again. I couldn't help but let out a smile from it myself as I stood on my feet.

She stopped and leaned in to kiss me, tasting herself on me again. She broke off, licked her lips and smiled brightly. "That's better, then?" I asked.

"Well, you'd know better than me. You got to taste from the source this time," she pointed out. "Now I'd like my turn."

Once I figured that out, I stood still and waited for her to....take her turn. But she didn't drop to her knees. "Oh, no, you can lie down!" Emma corrected. "We've earned getting off our feet and knees for a while."

I had no argument or reason to argue. Therefore, I went to the bed and sat down, removing my shirt before laying on my back. There was a mirror on the other end of the room, and when Emma got onto the bed, I could see her bare ass reflected on it as she laid between my legs.

Without saying anything, Emma put her hands on my pants and started getting them unbuckled and loose. I lifted my hips so she could pull them down, then she lowered the front of my underwear to see my cock come out. "There it is again," she reacted.

As before, she first came into contact with my cock by stroking it, albeit slower in this case. Unlike before, she then started lowering her mouth onto it -- to the point where it soon went right down her throat.

I gasped as Emma came off, finding myself near the edge all over again. "Byproduct of all that voice work," Emma explained. "Nifty side effect, huh?"

I just bobbed my head, waiting and needing for her to bob hers. Soon enough, she did, taking me all in and even humming on my shaft. In fact, she was probably humming one of the songs. I didn't make out which one before she came off again.

"Now that we're warmed up...." Emma teased, before going back down differently. She merely worked on my head and tip, slowly taking me in an inch at a time. She bobbed on me and licked me, coming off every so often to kiss it and slide her lips and tongue on the side of my shaft.

I looked on the mirror and saw Emma's perfect ass clench up, then looked back to her face as it took my cock back inside. She was deliberate with her movements, soothing me with her suckling and licking until she suddenly deep throated me.

When she did, she came off with a flourish and stroked me, then went back to softly kissing and suckling me instead of pushing me over. I soon caught my breath and laid back, watching her work and then seeing her eyes look up with a twinkle.

"God, those eyes...." I praised, enjoying their mesmerizing green tint. She came off and smiled right against my tips. "God, that smile...." I continued, enjoying the sultry, closed mouth half smirk on her lips and then reaching out to touch her cheek.

"That face...." I added as Emma suckled and teased my head, while I eventually took my hand over to her hair. "God...." was all I had to say on that.

"You must have jacked off to me so much in this room, huh?" Emma stopped sucking me off to ask me. "To get inspiration for your work? To lull you to sleep? Some third reason?"

"Um....can't exactly do math at the moment," I excused.

"Doesn't need to be exact. I'll just bet there's been a bunch of cum that spilled in this room because of me," she guessed. "And for your other stars too. But I did the math. You had at least two blowjob scenes like this in your guys' bedroom. A.K.A., your bedroom. So if that's all that made it to the Internet, then in your head...." she said as her mouth went to my balls.

"You did more stories about me than anyone. So by that logic, you've shot off more cum over me than anyone. In this very room. Haven't you?" she asked matter of factly before wrapping her lips over my sack.

"Fuck! Fuck, um....math doesn't lie," I settled on.

"No it doesn't," Emma said when she came off my balls. "I'm not gonna lie either. When you jack off in me in this room again....I want you to think about when I made you cum for real. I want you to cum in your hand and wish it was in my mouth...."

"I always do...." I had to confess.

"But now you'll know exactly what you wish it was...." Emma breathed on my tip, then dragged her lips over it. Her warm, pretty mouth went back to work on my shaft, sucking it down deeper before coming off and licking it up and down.

"You didn't think of me while other women sucked your cock, did you?" she suddenly asked.

"What? I...." I was not in the right position to remember clearly enough.

"I thought of your cock when I sucked Andrew's. Before he left town," she was saying for some reason. "I thought it'd be enough to make me stop thinking about it. It wasn't. I'll bet the next time I swallow his cum.....I'll think of you cumming down my throat too. Of course, you gotta do it first...."

"Fuck me, I'm trying...." I gasped.

"Well, do it. Cum inside me," Emma demanded. "I'm singing my lungs out every night....my mouth is open so wide....what if one night....I think about it closed shut around your cock and filled up with your cum? I should know exactly what I'm in for thinking about....when I should be focused on my job....other cocks....other cum...."

If Emma hadn't went back to sucking me, I would and should have thought more about the direction that took. But she kept taking more of me down, easing me into her throat and letting her tongue and palate sooth me into submission.

She came off with a loud breath and a hum, then slowly went down my cock again, humming music and looking right at me. My hands rested into her hair while my eyes went back to her reflected ass, and her likely wet, reflected pussy. They returned to her face once I was lodged back in her throat, which she hummed and sucked as if to ease all the cum out of me.

With a few more hums, she came off and left me ready to go. When she slid her lips back down, I started filling her up by the time she was halfway down.

My hands tried to hold onto her hair without outright grabbing it, as I shot more and more of myself down her mouth. Emma suckled it all down, keeping her lips on my shaft and trapping my juices. She finally did release me and come off, keeping her mouth open as I saw myself shoot the last few strands into her.

I rolled my eyes back and laid my head down, waiting until I could move or speak again. In the meantime, I felt Emma crawl up my body and lay down on top of me. She rested her head on my chest, her hair tickling my chin and her pussy resting on my flaccid cock.

As my eyes closed, I heard Emma making noises. They weren't hot or sexy ones in this case. It sounded almost like quiet whimpers. Maybe her last words before swallowing another man's cum were pretty telling after all.

I kept my eyes closed, not feeling strong enough to look at her. I did put my arms around her, to show support that way. If she still wanted support from me.

It didn't sound like she was crying, though. Just a bit overcome, now that everything we did seemed to sink in. "I get it," was the best phrase of comfort I had.

"I know," I heard her say back. "I wouldn't have done this if you were someone who wouldn't. I wouldn't have kept thinking about you. I would have just dismissed you as a sick pervert. I would have just slapped you and left. I would have just said happy birthday and signed the next Playbill....."

"I know you would have," I assured. "I wouldn't be that crazy about you if you weren't that kind of girl. And you are. Before and after this." I reached to add, "What happens on Broadway? Or Pennsylvania?"

I heard a little soft giggle, encouraging me to open my eyes. When I met Emma's, there was still a bit of sadness left, but some brightness mixed in as well. I slid my right hand over to her head, giving it a little massage before seeing a smile start to grow.

I quickly covered it with my lips, waiting for Emma to press back on them. When they did, our lips and tongue danced in another slow, but passionate and sensual series of movements. My left hand went down and lifted the bottom of her skimpy top, feeling her lower back and ass.

Emma sat up and decided to do away with it all together, throwing it off her and showing her handful sized breasts, her full rosy nipples and trim figure. I leaned up and put my mouth on one of those nipples, resting my hands on her trim waist.

I sat up enough for Emma to rest into my lap. She quickly put her legs around my waist, making sure to wrap them extra tight. In response, I put my hands back and tried to massage her stocking clad upper legs, all as I worked on her nipples and her pussy brushed over my cock.

After a few more minutes of Emma rubbing on my lap and cock, and my mouth rubbing all over her tits, I realized I might be back up sooner than I thought. I still had a few more minutes, though, and there was one thing I really had to do to pass the time.

I had Emma get off my lap, then stood up next to the bed. Once Emma sat on the edge of it, I kneeled down in front of her. I openly gawked at her nearly naked body -- naked except for those pesky, sexy stockings.

I put both my hands on her upper legs and the top of her stocking. Very slowly, I started to lower it down and show more of the creamy, shapely flesh of her legs. As I did, I kissed each freshly exposed inch of her until I got to her knee, then slid the rest of the garment off her.

With her entire left leg bare, I went down to the bottom and started kissing my way back up. My hands went up her leg, massaging it and teasing it with light brushes of my fingers. They reached her thigh as my lips reached her knee, yet my right hand went over to her pussy while my left stayed where it was.

I felt how wet Emma was getting again as my lips went to join my left hand on her left thigh. After fondling her center for a while and nibbling her inner thigh, I turned my attention to her right leg. This time, I just put my hands on her stocking and rolled it down, then slid my hands back up her freed leg.

As Emma trembled, I settled my head between her legs again, licking her out once more. My hands stayed on her upper legs, rubbing and holding them and working in tandem with my tongue. All my free digits went up and down a part of Emma's lower body, finding the right speed and pressure to make her cry and curse me out.

"Turn around," I said into her slit. After a rapid lick and wiggle of my tongue, I backed up and waited until Emma had herself lie on her stomach, her ass sticking out in front of me now.

"Just like your first story with me...." she said, even with her face away from me.

"You did read me," I confirmed. Fueled with extra fire, I pressed my face against her perfectly plump ass and ate her from behind, while stroking the back of her legs -- reenacting one of the first sexual positions I ever wrote on her.

But this was real. This was really her ass and pussy against my face. These were really her juices coating my tongue. That was my real cock getting hard anew in the process. This was me on the verge of actually fucking the celebrity of my dreams -- well, the top one of them at the moment.

Unwilling to put off that final present any longer, I stood up. Keeping Emma lying in the doggy style position, I lined myself up and pushed myself in, going on until her ass was right against my crotch and my cock was completely inside her.

"Finally...." Emma groaned into my mattress.

"Yeah...." was the only response that fit. But there were more pressing things to fit in other things now.

I only wanted to stay in this position for a little while. Just enough to secure the mental pictures of Emma's ass backing up against my groin, and my cock pumping in and out of her pussy, for all time. About two-three minutes of mental pictures stood to do the job.

When time ran out, I pulled my cock from her and inserted my fingers in its place. They kept fucking her at the right speed for a minute, until I pulled them out and made sure they were wet enough. It was enough to dab the collected juices onto each of her ass cheeks, then rub and massage them in as I put my cock back inside her.

I fucked and rubbed her like that for another several moments, building up Emma's cries and wetness around me. Ultimately, I did make myself pull out again and get Emma to turn over onto her back.

Her legs closed up as she gazed up at me, almost daring me with the lust and hunger in her eyes and the barely contained smirk on her lips. I took in that daring look, the rise and fall of her breasts as she breathed heavily, the defined shapes of her waist and hips in that pose and the sleek curves of her legs, before letting my body rest onto her and cover it all.

I felt her part her legs beneath me as I settled over her. "Is this okay?" I asked.

"It's gonna be," she answered. As I'd suspected, once I pushed myself back in she said, "There we go...."

After getting all the way back in, I stopped and mentally prepared myself. I tried to remember every little thing about how Emma felt beneath me, how she wrapped around my waist and cock, how she looked at me and how her eyes and lips moved as I started thrusting slowly.

Now the question was what else to do and how.

"Just fuck me," Emma helpfully chimed in. "Don't think about how."

"Heh....I do pride myself in putting thought into this part," I tried to be light and serious.

"That's good for writing. Here I just want you to fuck me," Emma said clearly, putting emphasis on the next to last word. The serious, seductive tone of it left no room for doubt. Neither did this part.

"You can do it as slow or fast, hard or soft as you want. Just fuck me good," Emma continued. "If this is happening, I want you to fuck me good and make me cum. Make me make you cum deep inside me again. Fuck my brains out, fuck me to sleep, I don't care...." she admitted as my hips drove deeper against her.

"I just want you to fuck me right now....just like you want....like you made me want...." She said quietly and wonderfully. "Just come on and fuck me right now, birthday boy...." she practically hissed before her lips closed and laid right on mine.

Her words, voice and lips made me go extra fast as we kissed. The need to contain myself made me slow down and be more deliberate, as I kept kissing her face and neck. The need to still thrill her and make this worth it made me go faster than that later.

I thought I found a balance between these speeds before long. I softly kissed and worked on her face, neck, collar bone, ears and hair while pumping in and out of her. When my cock slowed down, I tried to build her up by kissing and nibbling her ear, while trying to match some of her naughty words and phrases.

I didn't have time to type them up, and I didn't have the acting talent or voice to really make it sexy. I assumed it was one of the reasons Emma was both groaning and laughing at the same time. I did my best to thrust deep enough to make her groan more, but I couldn't help letting out a laugh myself.

Emma used that opening to roll me over, which I certainly didn't mind. Her hips rose up and down, taking me in and out inch by inch -- which brought to mind a lyric from the blasted musical that started this.

Another laugh came out, making this an historic sex act in another way for me. "Gee, thanks," Emma quipped, even as I tried to wave it off and keep thrusting into her. She let out a....guffaw was the best word and rested her head on me.

We both composed ourselves before long, as I rested my hands on Emma's hips and she started rocking them again. As my hands held her hips and ass and her pussy clenched onto me, her eyes and face went from amused to lusty again.

"Well....now back to fucking me and making us cum," Emma got out, breathing and gasping on me.

"Yes...." I agreed, letting my hips go up faster and deeper, although the rest of our bodies stayed relatively still. Emma lightly dabbed her tongue against my lips, then I did the same to hers, until she opened her mouth and let out an extended moan in mine.

"Oh fuck me....yes....no rest for this voice...." Emma called out. "You love that, huh?"

"My work....speaks for itself...." I confirmed as I tried to make my thrusting cock speak for itself, with help from my hands on her ass and pussy now.

"Fine....let me....practice...." Emma groaned, riding me faster and practically smothering my cock with her insides.

"Happy.....birthday....to you...." She tried to sing, although it came out like half singing, half panting. Perhaps not on a Marilyn level, but I got the intent and the callback to where this all started. As I felt closer to the finish, I let my squeezing hands and fingers bring Emma closer, even as she tried to keep singing.

"Happy....birthday....fuck....to you...." she continued, making me chuckle in the middle -- until she swiveled her hips and made me moan at the end.

"Happy....birthday...." she didn't even get to try and use my name. My hips kept going and going, while my nearest left fingers kept rubbing and rubbing her pussy. My right hand went back on her head, then she sat up enough for me to suckle on her nipple, while I held her cheek and brushed my thumb over her lips.

"Fuck....fuck....hap...hap...." Emma gave up on singing and just let out a series of extended groans. After a few more creative uses of my left fingers, and nibbles on her nipples, I took her head into both my hands and pressed my lips hard onto hers, like back in New York.

When we broke and I felt us both ready to go, Emma got out, "Cum for me....cum for me for real....take your fucking present...."

And I did. It came eight days late, but it came hard and wet all over my cock. It also made me cum deep and long and fill Emma to the brim. It made her call out right into my mouth, her overwhelmed eyes and face flooding my entire line of sight.

When the presents were completely exchanged, I closed my eyes and felt Emma collapse onto me. I soon felt her lift her pussy off of me, then take the rest of her off me as I started to feel sleepy. I opened my eyes long enough to see Emma take my alarm clock from beside my bed.

She probably was on a schedule, even on her day off, so of course she wouldn't want to sleep long. "Just giving us about two hours. That leaves us an hour after that to wrap this up," I heard her say before feeling her rest against me again.

So even this Christmas of bonus presents would have one more hour of bonus gifts. That was good to know. Yet having Emma Stone sleep on me after exhausting sex, with my hands on her naked body and her head resting below mine.....it would set quite a high bar.

I figured nothing from Christmas could top my birthday, even before the play and the aftermath. I certainly thought nothing could top what I'd written about for three years. Seeing how wrong I was, I almost retired then and there, since there was nowhere to go from here but down.

And then Emma defied my hopes and dreams one final time, with her last words before I fell asleep; the last words I heard before the series of fucks she said after she woke us up riding me.

"If this is your idea of a birthday and Christmas....you gotta be there for New Years."

THE END