Fantasy Sex stories of hollywood and other foreign actresses

[sanjaysara]

4. Hollywood’s hot cougar – Salma hayek 

 
part 1

September 2013
 
I am a 24-year-old living in Hollywood, and I can afford to rent a $9,500 starter home in the Hollywood Hills. And if you didn't already envy and/or hate my guts enough, that home I wanted was being put up for rent by Salma Hayek.
 
If you can still stand to listen to me after hearing that, I'll go on for you.
 
I went up the hills to inquire about the house, figuring I'd be going over it with a realtor. Instead, Salma Hayek herself greeted me.
 
From what I gathered when I started listening, she was shooting a film right now and it gave her time to work out selling the house, while her husband was back in Paris. Therefore, she led me through her nearly 3,000 square feet of land, her four bedrooms, three bathrooms, her in ground pool and the clear view of the hills.
 
The view of her in a plain white dress was even clearer at times - even without a v-neck. And I read she had just turned 47 this month? I knew the newspapers and the Internet had to tell the truth once in a while, but that couldn't be one of those times. But if IMDb also agreed...
 
In any case, once I proved I could afford the place, I hoped that would get us closer to a deal. Yet Salma explained that she couldn't just hand it over to the first person who asked and had the money.
 
Part of me figured it was a ploy to nudge me into upping my offer - and I wondered if part of her figured I'd just do whatever she asked. Whether from my need for the house, or the ease she must have had in making men give in to her. What she asked me to give into next surprised me, however.
 
Since she would be doing afternoon shoots for the next several days, she offered to let me stay in the house, at least during the hours she worked.
 
I'd drive here every morning, take care of the place and prove I could do a good job, use the amenities and decide if I wanted to do so every day, and then head out soon after she came back. If I liked it and she saw I was a good caretaker, it would help my case and set the bar for other future candidates. She even said I could use her pool if I got too bored.
 
I had a job where I could take a few afternoons off for this test. And so, I spent my afternoon staying in and getting adjusted to Salma Hayek's home - my potential future home. If your jealousy is still under control, just hold on a little while longer.

 
On the third afternoon, I made sure to bring my swimming trunks, a white shirt I didn't mind getting wet in, and goggles. I waited till mid-afternoon to make my way into the water, figuring I'd swim around, get out and get dry before Salma returned.
 
I didn't think I had enough fun to lose that much track of time - not until I saw Salma heading out back. "Oh, damn!" I said before I stopped myself. "Am I that late?"
 
"No, I'm that early," Salma explained. "We had to move a scene to tomorrow."
 
"Ah. Then I'll get out of your way," I offered, starting to swim my way to the steps.
 
"Nonsense. My schedule got cut short, I shouldn't make yours do the same," Salma figured. "I could stand to sit down myself." With that, she went to a chair near the side of the pool and laid down.
 
"Okay. I'll try to keep it down," I vowed.
 
Feeling a bit more self-conscious with company here, I didn't do much splashing around. Really, all I could do was go underwater, swim around and do laps, which I'd already been doing for a while. I tried not to notice that Salma might be watching, and after a while, I stopped looking over.
 
When I remembered to do it again, I saw that she was already gone. Perhaps it was a sign for me to get out and give her one less thing to keep an eye on.
 
Then she came back out and my eyes were glued to her - hopefully in appropriate places. Part of me didn't have that hope, though. Not with her now in a one piece, light black swimsuit that definitely had a v-neck - as strained as it was.
 
"It was getting too hot," I somehow heard her ironically say. "And you already had the right idea on how to cool off."
 
Her own idea to go into the pool was both right and potentially very wrong all at once. When she went underwater and then surged right back up, her face and upper body dripping and...glistening in the sunlight, it got more right and wrong than even I imagined.
 
I went to the other end of the pool to stop thinking about it, or at least to make sure she didn't see me...think about it. Yet even that didn't work.
 
"You know, if you're gonna live here, guests and famous neighbors are gonna want to visit. And even swim here. You'll have to be in the same end of the pool with them at some point," Salma pointed out. A lot of that was probably true - of course, I'd have to be on my best, non pervy behavior here to help make it true.
 
Gradually, I swam closer to Salma and let myself talk to her. Gradually, I started to swim around with her next to me. Gradually, I went underwater and did some maneuvers without checking her out, even when she went under as well. Gradually, time went by as smoothly as it did when I was all alone in here.
 

I wasn't too waterlogged to hear Salma's bits of gossip about the movie she was shooting - and I refrained from being too glad for her that it wasn't another Adam Sandler film. She presumably wasn't too waterlogged to hear more about my job and how it helped me afford a place like this.
 
Things were going so well, that even when it was time to come out and she came out of the pool, I remembered to breathe. Even with her naked upper back, the back of her long legs and her barely contained...almost Kim Kardashian level ass right in front of me. Seriously, only someone with her boobs wouldn't be famous for that ass alone.
 
Just a little while longer, and I could safely give that the thought it deserved at my own house. With that, I got out and made myself notice that there weren't any towels out here. "Is there any way to get towels without going in and getting the house wet?" I asked.
 
"Bringing towels out here before we got in. But none of us were that brilliant," Salma said. The most brilliant idea we had to make up for that was rushing inside into the nearest bathroom.
 
Once we got in, I found a few towels and handed one of them to Salma. I turned and took my wet shirt off, laid it onto the sink and started patting down my upper body. My plan was to pat down my lower body, tie it around my still wet trunks, rush to my room to get dry clothes, then change in another bathroom and take my leave.
 
"Don't worry, I'll be out of your wet hair in a minute," I assured Salma, without even looking to see her using her towel - or how she was using it.
 
"I'm sure you know I just turned 47," I heard her say. "If I was another year older, you would be exactly half my age," she did the math correctly. "Yet here you are, trying to rent my house and trying not to show me how hard you are. It is something."
 
I hissed to myself, yet she kept going before I said any actual words. "I've been famous for 20 years. With that and me looking like this, you think I don't know when people are hard near me? Come on, give me some credit!"
 
"Yeah, that makes sense," I had to credit her. Turning around, I prepared to tell her I'd go. But when I saw she wasn't scowling at me, I went quiet again.
 
"Even now, look at what I do to people like you," Salma commented. "Not all of you would be able to live here, though. Or take care of the house like you have. Or do more than enough laps to keep this up, apparently," she said while gesturing to my body.
 
Fuck me. Is that what she was thinking about me, while I was trying not to think that about her? I assumed since she was famous and married, she wouldn't be affected...like that by me. Even with all the laps I do.
 
"I put in a lot of years for this place. I need to leave it to someone capable. Who appreciates it and much more. No matter how...inexperienced he may look by comparison," Salma said, stretching an obvious metaphor more than enough already. Yet she ended it with, "But he's still more than eager to learn some old tricks."
 
I saw Salma's eyes go down - then we both noticed how eager to learn I got. However, her attempt at all too obvious subtlety kept me from being embarrassed - since she certainly wasn't.
 
I started looking up again, my eyes stopping for more than a second at her chest, which still looked kind of wet. As for any other parts...

 
By the time I got up to her face, it was right in front of mine. Her lips curled into a knowing smile, topped off by the seductive gaze of her impossibly deep, sultry brown eyes. It was just one of the reasons I didn't move when her lips slid against mine.
 
Her kiss was slow and deep enough for me to feel every inch of her full, luscious lips. I also registered feeling her hands rubbing up and down my chest. When my lips finally pressed back against hers, I tried to go as slow as her, so as not to ruin the mood.
 
As much as I might want to fondle and ravage her, this felt more soothing, yet just as hot. I trusted her and her experience to know how to handle this. After all, this was still her house, and I still had to be a hospitable guest.

continue...