Once again it took me six months for my next temp assignment. What’s more, for the second straight time I would be working for a show I had already temped at before – in this case “Glee.” But this time I was heading back under different circumstances.
It was exactly because I had served on “Glee” two Aprils ago that I was being asked back now, since they needed temps they could trust to keep quiet. The show was filming its third season finale, where several of the key characters were about to graduate from high school. When news broke months ago that there would be graduations, rumors spread that key cast members would leave the show entirely as well. This set off a firestorm that FOX and creator Ryan Murphy didn’t want to repeat, so they were determined to keep things under wraps this time.
I had to fill out more confidentiality forms than usual, to make sure I wouldn’t spill any details about the episodes, the graduation, and anything I might overhear about the fates of cast members and next season. I already knew I could keep a secret; although my secret keeping had been less than stellar with Alison Brie and Emma Stone lately. But on simple matters of protecting TV spoilers, I imagined I would be safe.
All I can give away about my actual work on the “Glee” set was that it was busy, since they were going all out for this big finale. It did indeed help that I was already familiar with the cast and crew, although most of my time had been spent with Kristen Chenoweth two years ago. This time my focus was mainly on regulars like Lea Michele.
Since Michele’s Rachel Berry was among those graduating and was the star; self proclaimed and otherwise; of the Glee group, she had the most responsibility on her shoulders. And although the set was being locked down tight to keep spoilers in and tabloids/bloggers out, it did make the situation the big elephant in the room few wanted to talk about. It made me wonder if Murphy and the FOX powers had even told Lea and the others if they would stay on “Glee” next year, or go to a spinoff, or be used in some other way. In truth, I wondered if they’d even decided it yet, since they flew by on the seat of their pants enough as it is.
This made me kind of tip toe around everything too, for fear of saying the wrong thing in some way. As such, keeping my sex streak alive was not a concern at all, since the job was more intense this time. It was true that I hadn’t taken a shot at any of the young “Glee” regulars last time, and their age was less of a factor since they were two years older and still just as lovely. But they had too much on their plate for me to upset; and after my last three times with Mila, Alison and Emma, I thought it really would be spoiled to ask for more.
So I just laid low, served the cast and crew when I could and made sure to keep my mouth and ears shut the rest of the way. I intended to keep that up when I went to Lea’s dressing room to deliver the day’s secret script pages. It started out well as I was let in and I handed Lea the pages with no trouble.
“Can you give me any hints on this? Or did they make you sign confidential forms on this too?” Lea asked after taking the pages.
“No, but I still didn’t take a peek. Besides, I’ll hear about it when you guys film it anyway. They’ll probably make me sign something then,” I semi-joked.
“Well, us actors have to keep quiet and not know anything, so you have to be held to the same standard too. No sense complaining about it now,” Lea pointed out.
“I wasn’t, I was just making light of it,” I defended.
“Well, it’s not a laughing matter to Ryan, and I’m not seeing much of a joke either!” Lea shot off. Since it was clear I had said the wrong thing after all, I just stayed quiet and turned to go so I wouldn’t provoke her further.
“Wait….wait a minute,” I heard Lea say after I turned and started to open the door. She sounded quieter and more apologetic, so I took a chance and closed the door again before turning back to her. “That was….I mean, you….” Few were used to seeing Lea at a loss for words on the show, so this was a rare behind-the-scenes glimpse. “I shouldn’t have taken that out on you.”
“No, no, I do get it, trust me,” I said to try and smooth things over.
“At least one of us does. I know why we’re clamming up, cause millions of people would spoil this if they got the chance! And I know they’ll tell us if we’re coming back next year eventually! It’s just….if this really is my last time on the show, or if it’s my last time with some of the guys, I wish I’d know before we finished shooting it. It’s the uncertainty that’s killing me, you know?”
“I imagine its killing them too, so you’re not alone,” I reasoned.
“It still kind of feels like it. I don’t even know what’s right to bring up, in case there’s some blogger or spy on set. Even if I just said theories, they could blow it up as something real and be a pain in the ass! This is the end of an era for me and the show no matter what, and it shouldn’t be tarnished like this! I just hope all these efforts to stop that don’t do it anyway.”
“I’m sure they won’t….from what little they’ve let me find out so far, it looks like it’s going to be big,” I assured. “Even if it didn’t, I wouldn’t say so.”
“I know you won’t, you’ve been here twice and I know you can be trusted. I can be trusted too, if they’d let me. I’ve gotten through all the controversial photo shoots, the red carpets, the stories of me being a bigger diva than Rachel, and the bad reviews from the last two seasons! I wouldn’t let my big mouth trip us all up at the finish line now….even if it is the finish.”
“I don’t think it will be. I mean, I’m sure Ryan doesn’t want to let go of you guys, and there’s no way FOX does. Rachel Berry will live to conquer New York on screen somehow, whether it’s on “Glee” or a new show, or whether Finn’s by her side or not. I don’t know one way or the other, but I’d put good money on it anyway. Heck, they should give me extra money to play with after all this,” I tried to joke again.
“I admit, you’re making a good case for a raise now,” Lea stated. “I really am sorry I snapped at you….I guess I just needed to get it out, and there haven’t really been chances to do that. I can’t even do it with Cory or Chris or Heather or the others, in case the spies are waiting to see us together. If there are spies,” she said without trying to be bitter again.
“Well, the spies know you guys….but they don’t know me,” I pointed out, as my relative anonymity could come in handy for once. “If you need to vent out or something, I can be a good sounding board.”
“No, no, I shouldn’t be yelling at you. I can handle it from here without freaking out,” Lea assured.
“I know, but you should still feel safe to talk and not keep things in. If you can’t do that with your friends, a stranger could do. Especially one who can keep quiet and won’t attract spies,” I offered. I really wasn’t offering this to hit on her and keep my streak alive, despite how my attraction to her withstood the yelling from earlier. But if Lea was being worn out by this, it wouldn’t bode well for the show, especially since she was such a big part of this episode. So if I could help keep her steady, it would really be doing my job.
“I guess I can keep that in mind. But I will try not to bother you with my thoughts too much. I mean, you have enough to do without talking me off the ledge, right?” Lea inquired.
“I’m good at multitasking if I have to, don’t worry about me,” I assured. Once Lea smiled, I figured this was a better time to take my leave than before. “Well, I’ll let you solve the mystery of those secret pages now. Don’t spoil it for me, okay?” I said in another attempt to joke, and this time she actually did laugh.
“I think I have enough help to stop me from that. But thank you anyway,” Lea said generally, making me smile and leave before I started to look bashful.
Over the next few days, I made sure to make a delivery to Lea’s dressing room at the beginning or end of the day. She didn’t have to vent out anything each time, but I did try to help her get some things off her chest; her words and not her clothes. But it did somewhat astonish me that I could be a suitable sounding board for Lea. The other “Glee” seniors could probably relate better than me, and all the worries about spies and bloggers did border on paranoia.
But they were lax in giving away too much before and all the “Gleeks” and anti-Gleeks were on baited breath to gossip about spoilers, so they did have to do something. Plus I suspected Lea liked having an outside’s perspective to lean on too, even though I was as close to an insider as a temp could be. In any case, she wanted all the help she could in this milestone of a shoot, and I would make sure I did my part.
However, my stint would end several days before the last day of shooting, so I couldn’t help her for too much longer. As my second-to-last day came to an end, I volunteered to do some late clean up and checkups on the sets. I wanted to save the auditorium and the memories of having sex with Kristen in it for last, so I did rounds on the other sets first. Eventually this led me to the glee club classroom set, where I entered to see that someone beat me there.
“Lea? Oh, I’m sorry, I’ll come back later,” I offered after seeing her sitting at the piano.
“No, that’s all right. My little trip down memory lane was getting kind of lonely.” So she was hanging around because she didn’t want to leave the set too….that could mean a few things. “Memory lane, huh? Did they tell you anything new about the future today?”
“No, I’m still in the dark. But they’ll probably start talking in the next few days anyway. So I figured I’d look back a bit now, just in case. I mean, even if I stay on this show, it won’t be the same….and Rachel won’t be back here taking charge as a student again. Even if she gets to boss around somewhere in New York, it won’t be the same.”
“Well, Ryan and the others will still be filming it, and the other New Directions are bound to hover around. I get how it’ll be different, but if you’re still together in some way…” I trailed off as I approached the piano. “But who am I to nitpick? I didn’t have many friends that I had to leave behind at my real graduation. That was almost five years ago…..”
“And look where you are now,” Lea perked up.
“Yeah, still temping around my favorite shows, trying to sell books and make over $20,000 a year online….it has its ups and downs. You have a big head start and you’re two years younger than me, so you’ll have more ups no matter how it turns out,” I predicted.
“You’re probably right, I hope,” Lea conceded. “There’s still a lot more for me to do, and it’s not like I’ll never see or work with my Gleeks again. Yet after all these guys and this show did for me…..moving on, no matter how or when I do it, has to make me think. Maybe a little too much. But it must have been the same for you in real life, even without friends or cameras or photo shoots. Heck, even Rachel gets pretty overwhelmed in-”
This may have been the wrong place for a joke, but I couldn’t help covering my ears and making noises to pretend to drown her out. “Spoiler danger, spoiler danger, can’t know what Rachel’s feeling till next month, thanks!” Fortunately, Lea laughed since this seemed to break the mood.
“Yep, you can’t be too careful, even when no one’s here. Or even when it’s the most care free you’ve felt here in several days,” Lea reflected again. “Or when you have a friend to help with that.”
“Friend?” I had to ask. The saddest thing about all my time with celebrities is that I only had brief time with them; too brief to be considered a full-time friend or lover. I would have loved to be friends with all the actresses I got intimate with, and I was confident we could have been if things were different. But since things couldn’t work out that way, I didn’t bring up words like “friend” so that I could move on better. Yet Lea brought it up first, which brought me into new territory.
“I have been on here twice, but we barely did much the first time together and we just started hitting it off this time. Is that enough to call me a friend? Not that I don’t mind it, it’s just….I’m not usually around long enough to make friends with stars,” I said, while hiding that I was around long enough to do other things. Occasionally that was a little sad, like it threatened to be here.
“I know, and I’m not asking for any commitments beyond tomorrow or anything. But while you’ve been here, you have been a friend, and at the best time for me. Temporary or not, I’m happy I got that friendship while I could. So thank you again,” Lea offered, and punctuated with a kiss on the cheek.
I knew what that could set up, yet once again, I didn’t want to assume anything. Especially after Lea had poured her heart out and praised how much she liked my friendship; and friendship wasn’t always a step away from sex. I wasn’t going to put another layer on that unless I was completely sure she wanted to. As such, I just smiled and restrained myself from looking deeper into her lovely brown eyes and smile.
“Well….I can’t top that. Are there any other sets left in your memory lane tour where I could try? Come on, let’s go before they search this place for spies too.” I was willing to finish my rounds with Lea and call it a night; at least before it got too difficult to do just that. So I got up and took Lea’s hand to help her get up with me; but doing so only helped me see a quick look of disappointment on her face.
“What was with that look?” I had to ask. “Did you want to stay in here a while longer?”
“I’m not really in a hurry to go,” Lea alluded. “Are you?” As I suspected, looking at her only lowered my first line of defense.
“I’m here to do whatever you want. That’s what friends and temps are for. But only if you’re really sure about your request,” I said with as much subtlety as I could muster. At least with phrases like this, there was plausible deniability about any….hidden meanings.
It was harder to deny how Lea took my hand back and sat back down in front of the piano, however. With my second line of defense lowered, I sat down next to her again.
“Like I said….only if you’re really, really sure,” I reminded her. I commended myself on how I still had the will power to give actresses a way out before giving in. I still didn’t know what would happen if one of them wanted to take that way out after all; yet I would trust myself if the time came, and if it came now.
“And like I said, I’m happy to get your ‘friendship’ while I can.” Seeing that she squeezed my hand again when she said that, it confirmed she didn’t want the way out. Once her face tentatively rose up to meet mine, the last bit of defense was shattered.
For the second time, I was kissing a “Glee” actress on a show set. The first kiss was slow as I guided Lea’s face up to mine by cupping her cheek, and the second went a little faster as our tongues met. My eyes slightly opened to try and see hers, but then I saw the right door to the room instead and realized something. “Wait….we can’t be spotted by bloggers or nosy crew members. We might be too exposed from this angle,” I pointed out after I broke from Lea.
“Nope, we’re not giving this secret away for sure,” Lea insisted. So she got up again and l followed her to the center of the wall that separated the two doors to the “classroom.” If we stood there, it decreased the chances that someone could peak through the doors and discover us. Of course, we would have to keep standing, but we could find ways to make that work.
I started to make it work by leaning onto the wall and letting her press herself against me while we kisses again. Like with Alison, I was about 4 inches taller than Lea, so I had to lean down while she came up to me and wrapped her arms around my neck. My hands went to her waist and started to explore, eventually brushing the bottom of her blouse to try and get at the skin underneath. But first, Lea pulled her arms from my neck and slid them down my chest.
“Uh uh, you’ve had to serve me enough already. Unlike Rachel, I want to do something for someone else first….at least for a little while.” With that, Lea’s hands reached my pants and started to unbuckle them. Since she was taking the lead to start off, I just had to stand still as she dropped to her knees.
For a minute I hoped she wouldn’t be visible from this angle, on the off chance someone was spying or was coming to the set. But those thoughts had to become secondary when Lea pulled my cock out and started to stroke it with her delicate hand. All she did was rub my shaft, as her mouth didn’t take it in although it was pretty close. What’s more, she found a way to use her other hand as she delicately placed it on my balls.
Rachel Berry lost her virginity to start the season on “Glee” yet it appeared Lea already knew a trick or two of her own by then. In this one, she was giving me a hand job while palming my sack, and then topped it off by just sucking the head of my dick. And my head was all her mouth worked on throughout, since her hands were busy covering the rest of my genitals. However, the mouth and tongue work on my head and tip perfectly complemented the rest of her handy work.
It appeared this would be one of those times where I had to cum early so I’d have enough for later. “Ugh….this isn’t gonna last long like this….” I warned; which came back to haunt me when Lea pulled her mouth off and kept her hands still.
“You know what, I’m not that selfless yet,” Lea said, in a superior tone that was Rachel Berry’s hallmark; although she was probably trying to make it more playful. “After all that, this thing should be even harder, hotter and wetter when it goes off later. And now I think you should help make my equipment hotter and wetter when it meets yours.”
With that, Lea rose from her knees and went to lean against the wall next to me. I fully pulled down my pants and underwear before going to stand in front of her and help get her blouse off. I soon lifted it up and threw it on top of my clothes before paying full attention to her bare skin and lacy blue bra.
I had to bend my head down to start kissing Lea’s neck and upper chest as my right hand went onto her upper back. As for my left hand, it started to get a hold of the front of her skirt and start brushing at the center of it. My lips dipped into Lea’s cleavage as my hand went on top of her clothed groin; and like she did with my balls, I rubbed her center with my palm.
As she started moaning, my hand then left her crotch and trailed up her stomach before joining my other hand on her back. With the hands reunited, they could now be used to unhook Lea’s bra. When that was finished, they trailed down her back and went to get her skirt off as my mouth returned to her chest.
I briefly suckled her left breast before pulling away as her skirt went down. Now that she was just clad in her panties, I could more fully admire Lea’s nearly naked form. “Glee” tried to cast her as more of a plain girl compared to the likes of Dianna Agron, Heather Morris and Naya Rivera. But it was just another futile attempt to make an equally beautiful girl plainer than she really was. Like Mila, her petite frame was framed by enticingly tanned skin, breasts that were a very nice handful, well-defined hips and legs and that still lovely face on top.
I decided to pay longer attention to her handful of breasts, suckling on the right one this time while pushing up her left one. Once I turned to suckling her left tit and holding her right, I put my free left hand back on my cock. Although it needed to calm down, I thought it could give Lea a tease of what was to come, as I placed the head of my dick onto her panties and started to rub it.
If you’re a guy (or, for that matter, nowadays, a chick), take a look in the mirror. A long look. Would you go out with you? Be honest now; it’s yourself you’re talking to.
You would? You could really overlook the crow’s feet, the turkey neck, the knee-length breasts or stubby, uncut cock? The elephant’s knees?
You’re not that bad, you say?
Remember, it’s yourself you’re talking to.
And even if you’re not that bad, even if you don’t have thunderous thighs and a flabby ass and pimples that have haunted you since you were twelve and had braces and wore thick-lens glasses, are you really likely, with all those freckles, to catch the eye of a hot, twenty-something in a thong bikini?
No, let’s be honest. Whatever your age, gender, sex, and waist size, and whether you’ve had breast-reduction or -augmentation surgery, you’re about as likely to attract a member of either sex as you are a Sasquatch of any age, either gender or sex, and a waist size under eighty-five inches, whether the hirsute creature’s undergone breast-reduction or -augmentation surgery or not.
The only girl you’re likely to lay is a Dream Girl, one whose tits and ass consist of pixels rather than flesh and blood and who’d be willing to open her arms (much less her mouth, cunt, or ass) to you only in your wildest dreams.
But that’s okay. Dream Girls are actually better than real women, even of the Girls-Gone-Wild kind that one encounters, if at all, only during Mardi Gras in New Orleans.
Besides, Dream Girls are available free. You don’t have to splurge for dinner and a movie before trying to knock them up or even spring for some cheap costume jewelry, just to get them to lift their tee shirts. In fact, most Dream Girls don’t wear tee shirts–or anything else, for that matter.
Dream Girls are the Internet’s gift to men, especially overweight, balding, dirty old farts who sit around naked in front of semen-smeared personal computer monitors, their altars to the Dream Girls whom they worship from afar–or, at least, through the screens upon which these goddesses frolic. Although he probably won’t admit it and will, in fact, try to deny it, even if his wife catches him red-handed at the shrine of his latest digital damsel, every pudgy, thin-haired guy over forty has a harem of hundreds, perhaps thousands, of Dream Girls.
Dream Girls confirm Plato’s idea of forms, according to which any real thing is but an imperfect image of the real deal, which exists in the mind of God. We know this, because we’ve never seen a real, flesh-and-blood woman as perfect and beautiful as a Dream Girl.
The last perfect woman, besides Galatea, whom Pygmalion carved of ivory, was Eve–and that was only before the Fall. After she’d shared the “forbidden fruit” with Adam, she lost the mystique of being the world’s only virgin, and everything was downhill from there–until the Internet launched the billion or so sites featuring Dream Girls, and billions of bare breasts, shaved pubes, gaping cunts, and sleek, round asses were available to millions. A guy could get laid again, right in his own bedroom–well, as long as he’d content to let his hand stand in, as it were, for his Dream Girl’s computerized cunt.
With the advent of the Dream Girl, women have risen up and lived out the creed of the Virginia Slims advertisements. They’ve cum a long way, baby. Gone are the prune faces, the acne, the melted necks, the deflated, sagging breasts, the stretched labia, and the cellulite-”dimpled” asses. Dream Girls are slim and trim; they’re light and tight; they’re sassy and brassy. If Helen of Troy’s face could launch a thousand ships, theirs can, and do, launch a billion sperm, each and every day.
Pygmalion’s Dream Girl, Galatea, was sculpted, and today’s digitized Dream Girl is a figment of her creator’s mind, too. Instead of ivory, she’s made of pixels and light. She’s posed in perfect light. Her hair is styled. Her cosmetics are applied by makeup artists. Her clothing, should she wear any, is selected with consummate care to accentuate her curves. Blemishes are airbrushed away.
Moreover, Dream Girls are actually happy to be women. They exude confidence and joy. Unlike the old battleaxe to whom the Dream Girl’s devotee is married, if he’s married at all, a Dream Girl actually smiles, even when she’s getting laid.
She’s available, too–any time, and for whatever kind of sex happens to strike one’s fancy. She’s as adept as a whore at every possible way of making whoopee, too, and the kinkier the sex, the better. Yet, despite her considerable experience–she’s done it with nine-tenths of the world’s male population and at least fifty percent of the planet’s females–she retains her virginal, barely-out-of-her-teens look of innocence, a perpetual virgin who just happens to suck cock like a Hoover and take it up the ass like the world’s biggest slut. She can even get off without hours of “foreplay”!
She’s an accomplished actress, too. She can play the part of Little Miss Innocent, all wide eyed and blushing, or she can be a dominatrix bent upon teaching a lesson her despicable slave will never forget. She can be the proverbial whore with a heart of gold, a back door girl, or even a nun who’s forgotten her vows of chastity–if she ever bothered to take them at all. She can be a living doll or the girl next door. She can even be mom, a sister, or a daughter. She’s a Dream Girl, after all, and she exists for just one reason: to make your dreams come true, no matter how wholesome, sick, or perverted they may be.
She may be black, she may be white, she may be Asian, she may be Native American, but, one thing’s certain: your Dream Girl’s ready and waiting.
She’s out there, somewhere, right now, dreaming of you.