alternative endings

I doubt very much Emma Watson is anything like this, but I can dream. (Maybe I should get a night job?)

Please remember THIS IS NOT REAL!

The strangest and most wonderful things can happen when you least expect them. Due to a financial shortfall I had had to take a second, part-time job as a night clerk at a local hotel. It was only two nights a week, but the extra money was helpful. There was a bit of excitement around the town at the time as there was a film crew making a movie nearby. It meant that there were a few road closures around the town every so often, impacting on my main job, but other than that I didn’t really notice much happening: I didn’t even know the name of the film they were making, let alone who was in it.

One Saturday night after they had been shooting for a week or so I received a call down to the front desk I was manning, asking about the possibility of getting a sandwich sent up. I had to tell the lady that I was sorry but the kitchen had closed at midnight, when I came on duty half an hour ago.

“I had an idea it might be,” a somehow familiar voice said, “but I thought it might be worth asking.” She sighed. “Sorry for disturbing you.”

“That’s all right madam, it was nice to have someone to talk to for a short time.” I said. At that moment I had a thought. “Actually, if you don’t mind it looking a bit scrappy I could nip down to the kitchen and maybe make you a cheese and tomato sandwich.”

“Could you? I’m having trouble getting to sleep and thought a bite to eat might help.”

“In that case I may be able to rustle up some drinking chocolate too.”

“That would be lovely, thank you. I’m in room forty-two.”

“I should be about twenty minutes.”

It actually took me nearer half an hour, mainly because I couldn’t find a fresh enough tomato at first. I knocked softly at the door of room forty-two, a small tray balanced on one hand, wondering if maybe the lady had fallen asleep after all. After a second or two the door opened. I nearly dropped the tray in surprise at who I saw. It was Emma fucking Watson! She wore a short silken robe loosely tied over a shorter silk negligee. I couldn’t stop myself from exclaiming.

“Good god almighty! You’re Emma Watson!” (I managed to miss out the expletive.)

“I know I am.” She grinned despite probably hearing that all the time. “Come in, before you drop that.” She said, taking the wobbling tray with the drink and the sandwich from me.

“I’m not sure I should.” I said dubiously.

“Why ever not? Don’t you trust me?” She laughed.

“It’s me I don’t trust. And I’m not supposed to leave the desk for too long.” I explained.

“And why don’t you trust yourself?” She teased.

“Are you kidding? You’re Emma Watson, lusted after by millions!”

“I thought hotel staff were above noticing things like that.” She teased again.

“Maybe the full-timers are, I only do Friday and Saturday nights, and I’m pretty new at it too.”

“Oh go on. Come in and talk to me while I eat the sandwich you went out of your way to make for me.” I wavered uncertainly. “What’s your name anyway?” She asked.

“Dave.” I told her.

“Well Dave, please come in and talk to me for a while.” She gave me such a sweet smile, but with her hazel eyes sparkling with mischief.

‘What the hell?’ I thought, ‘It’d be worth the risk of getting the sack’. So I followed her into the room, sitting in a vacant chair as Emma sipped her chocolate and took a nibble from her sandwich.

“So, I didn’t realise we had the much-talked-about film crew here at the hotel.” I said, mainly for something to say.

“You don’t,” she said, “only me. Everyone else was having a party tonight, but I wanted to be alone, to try and get some sleep,” she smiled ironically, “so they moved me in here, at least for a few days.” She took another sip from her drink, this time leaving a foamy brown moustache on her upper lip. “I might stay longer though, it’s nice here.”

I was struggling not to laugh and failed.

“What is it?” Emma asked suspiciously.

“You appear to have acquired a moustache.” I gasped out between laughs.

Emma went a little red and dabbed away the foam with the tray napkin.

“Omigod, what must you think?” She said, clearly embarrassed by something so silly.

“If you must know, I’m thinking that film stars appear to be human too.”

“You’re very kind.”

“And you, Miss Watson, are very pretty, even with a moustache.”

She blushed a little more and then smiled at me; at me! I still couldn’t believe this and things were about to get more unbelievable.

Emma looked at me thoughtfully.

“Are you going to be doing anything in particular tomorrow?” She asked, still nibbling at the sandwich.

“Well, I intend to get some sleep when I get home in the morning.”

“What about in the afternoon?”

“I’ve nothing planned.” I shrugged.

“Good. I was wondering if you’d be interested in going for a picnic.” She blushed again, possibly thinking she was being pushy.

“With you? I’d love to.” I said.

“Good.” She said again. “I’ll provide the food if you provide the location.”


“Pick me up about two?”

“Whatever you want Miss Watson.”

“I think you can call me Emma.” She gave a relieved grin and then had to stifle a yawn. “That drink appears to be starting to work.”

“Then I’ll leave.” I said, getting up. “See you tomorrow afternoon Miss…..” She held up her hand. “Sorry, Emma.” I grinned.

If I hadn’t been so tired I doubt I’d have got any sleep at all. As it was I lay awake for over an hour; worrying about what I could talk to Emma Watson about; about whether she’d mind travelling in my old car; and mostly about where to take her for a picnic. Now I’d woken up and I was still worrying, but now about whether I’d imagined the whole thing. By one o’clock I’d had enough and I called the hotel and asked to be put through to room forty-two. I had been prepared to lose my job just for talking with Emma and now I was equally prepared to lose it if she thought I was harassing her. The phone had barely rung twice before it was answered.

“Hello?” Came Emma’s cheerful voice.

“Hello Miss Watson. It’s me, Dave, from last night?”

“Hi Dave! I thought I asked you to call me Emma? What’s up?”

“W-well,” I stuttered, “t-to be honest, I thought I had to be d-dreaming last night.”

I heard her laugh.

“Why on earth would you think that?”

“Because stuff like that just doesn’t happen to the likes of me. I mean, who would believe me if I told them a famous film star had asked me on a picnic?”

“I see what you mean. You are still coming to pick me up aren’t you?”

“Now that I know I’m not delusional, yes.”

“Good. I’ve just organised a hamper. Will I need to get a blanket?”

“Don’t worry Miss….Emma, I’ll bring everything else. See you soon.”

“In a while.”

I put the phone down, smiling to myself. Then the enormity of it hit me again; I was escorting Emma Watson on a picnic for god’s sake. I’d better get organised and bloody quick.

The weather that Sunday afternoon was perfect for a picnic. In the end I decided to take Emma to the top of Hangman’s Hill. We had sat and munched on our sandwiches and looked out at the view, making idle chit-chat. Her easy going attitude led me to nearly forget who I was with. As we were packing up the picnic gear I asked her if she was doing as research for her current role, telling her I didn’t mind if it was. She had laughed and said no, it was more like auditioning for real life.

We arrived back at the hotel and I helped Emma get the empty hamper out of my car, and then she asked me if I could come to her room that evening.

“I’m not sure; I’ve got to go to work tomorrow, my proper job, the one I can’t lose.” I replied honestly.

“Well could you call in sick if we run late?” She asked. For some reason she wanted me there that evening.

“I could I suppose. They’d be surprised but wouldn’t question it; I take so few sick days.”

“That’s settled then. Come up around seven.”

“Will I need a suit?” I asked, thinking she wanted to go out somewhere and needed an escort.

“No, just wear something old and comfortable.” Emma gave me a wicked grin, making me wonder exactly what she did have planned.

I arrived at the hotel just before seven o’clock and made my way up the backstairs to room forty-two. After a little head scratching I’d decided to wear my old 501′s and a polo shirt. Not knowing what Miss Watson was thinking of I thought that this covered most eventualities. As I knocked on the door it was almost precisely seven. Emma opened the door looking a little surprised.

“You’re earlier than I expected.” She said.

“You did say seven, and I’m afraid I’m one of those people who always turn up at whatever time they’re told.” I said apologetically.

“It wasn’t an accusation; I just meant I wasn’t ready. I was going to surprise you.”

“Surprise me?”

“Yes. Look, come in, sit down, and I’ll get ready.” With that she disappeared into the bathroom.

Puzzled, I sat down to wait.

“What am I doing here Miss Watson?” I called out.

“Emma!” She reminded me again. “And I want to try a little role play.”

A whole variety of slightly perverse thoughts crashed into my brain; closely followed by a reminder that she was an actress and she probably meant that she wanted to rehearse something.

“What’s my role then?” I asked.

“You are the hotel guest, and I’m the maid who has come to your room.” Came the muffled reply.

‘Maid?’ I thought to myself, but instead of saying anything I asked another question.

“Okay, where are my lines?”

“There aren’t any. You just react as if it was for real.”

“But not as if you’re Emma Watson?”

“You got it.”

“Okay, I think I can do that. Is this some sort of preparation for the film?”

“Nope, this entirely a personal thing.”

Her answer confused me. I was even more confused when Emma came out of the bathroom. She wasn’t wearing one of the dull non-descript uniforms like our hotel maids wore: She was wearing a full-on, every mans fantasy, porno version of a French maid’s uniform. Short, black dress, frilly white knickers peeking out from beneath, black stockings, ridiculous high heels, tiny apron and funny hat thing. Emma waited patiently until I had regained the power of speech.

“Sorry.” I said. “I just wasn’t expecting….well, the outfit.”

“Great isn’t it.” She grinned. “I’ve been wanting to get a man’s opinion.”

“I think it looks awesome on you, but I wouldn’t wear it outside if I were you.”

“I wasn’t intending to.” She smirked. “Ready to start now?”

I pulled myself together and nodded.

“You called sir?” Maid Emma asked demurely.

“Er, yes Emma.” I racked my brain for something for her to do. “Er, could you get me a glass of water please my dear?” That sounded a bit silly to me, but I wasn’t sure what people with maids asked for.

“Certainly sir.” Emma said, dropping a curtsey. I smiled at the cuteness of it. She picked up a glass from the night stand and the small tray it had been stood on, opened a bottle of mineral water and poured some of it into the glass. As she turned and brought the glass on the tray towards me I noticed a un-maid-like smirk playing across her features. Emma got closer to me and then ‘accidentally’ tilted the tray a little and the glass toppled forward into my lap, soaking my crotch. “Oh, I’m so sorry sir. I don’t know how that happened.” She lied, swiftly picking up the cloth that had covered the night stand and dabbing at the wet patch. My dick had already become stiff at the sight of her in the uniform, now with her almost caressing it through the material of my 501′s it was as hard as a rock. I panicked at the thought of Emma seeing my arousal and tried to push her hands away.

“Emma, this is going too far.” I blurted out.

“Nonsense!” She replied, slapping my hands away. “This is exactly the honest response I wanted.”

“It is?” I was confused again.

“Yes, now get back into character.”

‘What would a guest do in a situation like this?’ I wondered. Then I had an idea; a naughty idea that might give me an indication of how far Emma would go with this.

“You are a very clumsy maid Emma,” I said sternly, “I think you had better remove my wet clothes and get them dry.”

“Yes sir.” She said, removing my jeans. “Sir your underwear is damp too.”

“I believe I told you what to do.”

“You did sir.” She replied and to my surprise tugged my boxers down as well. My erect cock sprang free, almost hitting her in the face. Emma had already gone further than I thought she would, but I was absolutely astonished when she took a lick at my knob-end. Emma fucking Watson was licking my fucking knob! She gazed up into my face, her hazel eyes shining in either laughter or excitement.

“You….you don’t have to do that you know?” I managed to say.

She stopped her licking for a moment and smiled.

“You’re not going to pretend you don’t like it are you?”

“No, but I never expected you to go this far Miss Watson.”

“Emma. Why not? And I intend to go a lot farther too.” She gave me the impish grin. “That was the whole idea of getting you here.” She slowly ran her tongue along the underside of my dick and I groaned. “Tell me you don’t want to fuck me and I’ll stop.”

I groaned again.

“Miss Watson, Emma, I’ve wanted to fuck you for the past six or seven years.”

She licked me again.

“Oh you naughty man; I was underage then.”

“But not now.” I said, giving in and slipping my rampant cock between Emma’s luscious lips. Momentarily taken by surprise she gagged a little, but then recovered and swallowed my entire shaft. Maybe not an impressive feat; I’m not built like John Holmes; but impressive enough, especially when she looked up at me with her nose in my pubic hair and my balls on her chin, lust now in her shining eyes. Oh so slowly she drew her head back, revealing my prick now moist with her saliva. She teased my knob with her tongue for a moment before engulfing my shaft once again. Her head bobbed up and down my length for a while, pausing every so often to lick at my helmet, her hands on my hips. It didn’t take too much of this delicious treatment before I could feel a climax building.

“Emma, I’m gonna cum.” I gasped out, trying to hold off the inevitable.

She just glanced up, devilment in her pretty eyes, and carried on deep-throating me. “Emma, if you don’t stop I’m gonna cum in your mouth!” I tried again. I was close now, but she kept going. Suddenly I felt her finger running from my ass hole to my balls and I couldn’t contain myself any longer. With an ecstatic grunt I came, firing shot after shot of my spunk into her waiting maw. I subsided back into the chair as Emma drained the last drops from me, struggling to come to terms with the fact that I’d just been blown by Emma Watson!

Emma herself sat back on her heels, a satisfied grin playing across her cum-covered lips. Her tongue flicked out, licking them clean.

“How long until you can go again?” She purred.

“Not sure.” I panted. “Need to get my breath.”

“Well lie on the bed and we’ll find out shall we?”

As I moved to the bed Emma had stood up and was looking down at me, the gleam of excitement still in her eyes.

“I think it’s time for you to introduce your tongue to my pussy.” She grinned, delicately slipping her panties off to reveal a beautiful shaved cunt.

“After such an incredible blowjob how can I refuse?” I grinned back.

Emma sat on my chest and then straddled my face, lifting the hem of her uniform to give me a close-up view of the object of many a jack-off fantasy, her shaven haven. My hands rested on her hips and I stuck out my tongue, tasting the sweet nectar already flowing from her slit. Emma gave a murmur of appreciation as I lapped at her juicy pussy with long strokes, each one ending each one with a circling of her pleasure button. I moved my hands to rest on her pert buttocks as Emma began to rock herself on my tongue, cooing as it probed the inner recesses of her cunt. She squeaked in surprise as my forefinger brushed her ass hole.

“Em?” I questioned.

“Carry on please.” She whispered.

With that permission I slipped the finger into her rear entrance producing a moan of pure pleasure from her. ‘I’m definitely going to investigate THAT response if I get half a chance.’ I thought. Emma began to breathe in shorter and shorter pants as my tongue continued to work at inducing an orgasm. With an ecstatic cry Emma came, her ass clamping tight around my finger and her pussy gushing onto my tongue. She dropped forward onto her hands, her dress falling free to cover my face. She rolled off me and lay panting after her climax. I got up onto one side and looked down at her. On an impulse long coming I leant over here and kissed her. Emma opened her eyes and smiled up at me.

“I can taste myself on your lips.” She giggled.

“It’s a nice taste.” I responded, licking my lips.

“Ready to go again then, huh?” She asked.

“How can you tell?” I replied.

“Your dick is poking into the top of my thigh.” She laughed.

I looked down and saw what she meant. I gave her another kiss and at the same time rested a hand on one of her breasts. I could feel the small but perfectly formed soft fleshy mound rising and falling as she breathed. As I began to massage her tit through the material she cooed in pleasure again.

“That feels nice.” She said.

“Just what I was thinking.” I grinned. I sat up a little more and put my spare hand on Emma’s other breast.

“Mmmm, that feels so good.” She muttered softly, arching her back, pushing her tits towards me.

“Can…can I touch them naked?” I asked quietly.

“You just made me cum with only your tongue and you’re ASKING to play with my naked bosom!” She burst out laughing. With a quick jerk she pulled down the top of her outfit, revealing the pink rosebuds of her nipples sitting perkily atop her sweet little titties. “There you are; fondle away. She giggled.

I cupped each naked breast and licked at the nipples in turn. Both were already erect but seemed to get even harder under my touch. I suckled on her right teat, massaging the left one at the same time. Emma arched her back again, trying to get her tit further into my mouth.

By now I was feeling pretty emboldened so I dropped my left hand to Emma’s pussy. She was really wet down there and I had no problem sliding three fingers into her slit.

“No!” She groaned. “Not your fingers; your cock. Stick your cock in me!”

I won’t pretend I wasn’t overjoyed to hear those words; I’d whacked off to fake pictures of Emma Watson being fucked ever since she became of age. And now she was asking, no, begging me to stuff my dick into her cunt! Sure I’d never get the chance again I positioned myself between her spread legs, rucking the uniform up out of the way. Wanting to be certain she knew what she was doing, I paused with my cockhead up against the lips of her pussy.

“You are okay with this Emma?” I asked tentatively.

“Yes, goddammit!” She practically screamed. “Stop fucking teasing and stick your meaty prick into my hot pussy.”

That was all I needed to hear. I thrust my hips forward and sank all the way into her sweet snatch. Emma gave a low groan of satisfaction and then began to grunt every time I plunged into her. The grunts came closer together as I quickened my pace. Emma wrapped her legs around my waist, crossing her ankles to hold me close. Her eyes were closed but her hands were running over her breasts, pinching and teasing her own nipples. Her cunt clenched and unclenched with each of my strokes, taking me nearer to what was going to be a huge orgasm for me. My balls tightened and I knew I was close.

“I’m gonna cum Em!” I cried out again.

“Hold on! I’m close too!” She gasped.

“Can’t!!” I said as I fired off, filling her love channel with my seed.

September 2018
« Feb