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Introduction:

The support for the previous part was overwhelming. I have one more part written for this storyline, and i'll post it if I get a decent amount of support for this one! Don't forget to comment and vote :P
Emma Watson...

It was the best day and a half of my life; and I can't tell anyone about it. Not that they'd believe me. Hell, sometimes I don't believe it. It sounds like some kind of sleazy fantasy I had dreamed up on a lonely night. And yet, I have her panties hidden in my wardrobe at home like some sort of trophy. Beneath it sits my copy of 'Harry Potter & the Prisoner of Azkaban', with a handwritten message from her on the inside of front cover thanking me for a lovely time and telling me she might call one day.

Of course, when paparazzi shots showed up online of her and I sitting at a hotel bar having a few beers, my friends and family started talking. I showed them the signed copy of the other Harry Potter book I had her autograph which contained a much more innocent message. My friends asked me if I "put the moves on her". I simply replied, "she's Emma Watson". Those words translated to "I struck out" to most people; and I'm more than happy for them to believe that. Just the memories of what we got up to in that hotel room are enough.

She said she might call me one day if she got the chance to come back to Australia. I admit that for awhile I kept a close eye on her Twitter feed and fansites for any news, but there was no hint that she would be coming back anytime soon. It was now seven months later and whatever miniscule hope I ever held that she would call was gone. But as it turns out, life is strange.

One day while I sat in my office at work, I received a phone call. The caller ID was blocked and I just assumed it was one of my clients.

"HMH Lawyers, Nate speaking."

"Ooh, very professional," said a girl with an English accent.

"Hi, can I help you?" I asked while absentmindedly thinking about what I wanted to eat for lunch.

"Nate, it's Emma."

"Emma...?" I asked without much enthusiasm.

I heard a soft chuckle on the other end before she said; "Do you really not recognise my voice?"

I started paying attention and suddenly it dawned on me who was on the other end. I sat up straight and peeked out of the door of my office to make sure no one else was listening.

"Emma... Hi," I said, my mouth suddenly dry.

"Hi. How've you been?"

"Great. You?"

"Great."

There was silence on both ends. Neither of us spoke for a few seconds. I couldn't even hear her breathing on the other end, although I did hear the very faint sound of traffic, which led me to ask,

"Where are you?"

"London," she said, before adding, "I uh, I'm heading to Australia soon."

"Really?" I said, struggling to curb my enthusiasm.

"Yeah. I'll be in Sydney for the Australian Premiere for my new movie."

"Oh yeah, I saw some early reviews for that the other day."

"And?"

"Well, Variety hates it."

"Of course they did," Emma sighed. "Any positives?"

"Well, everyone seems to love Russell Crowe."

The sound of Emma laughing came through the phone. It was music to my ears. Just hearing her voice again brought back memories of our time together. I was beginning to wonder if history would repeat itself. But I wasn't about to lead off with that. Instead, I said,

"Will he be at the premiere?"

"Who? Russell? I imagine so. He's one of your lot after all."

"My lot?" I asked.

"Australian," she explained.

"Oh of course," I chuckled nervously. "Can I meet him? He's one of my favourite actors."

"Get to Sydney on the 24th and I'll make sure the two of you end up having a beer together."

"Thanks Emma."

Again, we lapsed into silence. I strained to hear her on the other end. Nothing. There was nothing said for at least 5 seconds; and when you're on the phone with Emma Watson, 5 seconds feels like an eternity. Suddenly, I thought back to what she had just said and ask,

"Hold on. You said the 24th?"

"Uh-huh."

"This month or next?"

"This month."

"Emma, that's this Monday," I said whilst double checking on my computer.

"Yeah."

"That's only four days away."

"Yeah. Can you come?" she replied quietly.

"I'd have to take a day off work."

"Take the week off. I'll fly you out."

"Notwithstanding how emasculating it is to have a girl by your airplane tickets for you; what do you have in mind?"

"I need company. And we had fun last time I was in Australia."

I took a moment before answering. Not because I didn't know how to reply, but because I was genuinely baffled why she was calling me. We did have fun during her last visit to Australia. But I'd be lying if I said it was anything more than casual sex. She said she might give me a call next time she was in Australia, but I never expected she would. Hollywood actresses don't seek out the company of junior lawyers in Australia who they've only knew for an accumulated total of only 40 hours. But when Emma Watson asks you to come to Sydney to meet her, you don't say no.

"Done," I replied.

***

It felt strange to sit the lobby of the Park Hyatt Hotel in Sydney Harbour at Emma Watson's invitation and knowing we were likely going to continue where we left off was a strange situation to be in. This was beginning to feel like the most elaborate and expensive booty call in history. And why I was the lucky recipient, I'll never know. In any event, it was significantly preferable to being at work.

I had been waiting for about 15 minutes when I saw her. And as if this situation wasn't strange and dreamlike enough, the sun shone through the doorway as she walked in, giving her an almost ethereal quality. She waltzed in surrounded by her entourage and pursued by the paparazzi. Hotel security ushered Emma inside and barred any of the paparazzi from coming in. Things had suddenly become very hectic. And here I was hoping for a quiet and intimate reunion. Once inside, Emma greeted the concierge and hotel staff. She looked as if she had done it a thousand times (and probably had). Inside the (relative) privacy of the hotel lobby, I managed to get a better look at Emma. Just like the last time I saw her, she wore a pair of large sunglasses which she had only just taken off. Her clothes appeared modest; leggings and a long green shirt.

I wasn't sure what I should do. I couldn't just walk up to her and say hello. I sensed she wanted my visit to be incognito. So I decided to place myself between her and the elevator and hope she would notice me on her way past. This was something I hadn't resorted to doing since high school when I had a crush on the girl in my history class. And wouldn't you know it, just like in high school, it worked.

She was preoccupied with her phone as she walked towards the elevator and only glanced up momentarily to wave at some fans. As she did so, our eyes met. Her eyes lit up as a wide smile spread across her face. She was clearly debating whether or not to stop and talk to me but was also noticeably concerned at the lack of privacy. Her eyes darted back and forth from me, to her entourage to everyone else who was watching her every move. She was about to walk past me when at the last second, she stopped dead in her tracks and turned to me.

"Nate! How are you?" she said happily in that posh English accent of hers.

"I'm great," I replied; both surprised and at the same time smug to be the source her attention.

She walked up to me and hugged me like an old friend. This too took me by surprised. That same perfume I remembered from all those months back filled the air again as her hair brushed against my face and her arms wrapped around me in a warm embrace. As she was about to let go, she whispered in my ear,

"Just play along."

Before I could reply, she indicated to a middle-aged woman in her entourage and said,

"Nate, I'd like you to meet my publicist, Wendy."

Wendy and I shook hands as I suddenly remembered her from Emma's last visit to Australia. She had interrupted us in the middle of our amorous activities and ushered an abrupt end to our dalliance. If Wendy remembered me, she gave no indication. Emma continued,

"This is Nate, he's the budding journalist I was telling you about earlier. I offered to give him an exclusive. Could you pencil him in for an hour or so sometime soon."

I literally could not stop smiling to whole time she was speaking. Just being in her presence again and having her talk to me brought me more joy than I thought possible.

Wendy looked at me for a moment and she said, "I thought I had arranged for all press interviews to be conducted at the junket tomorrow. Who are you with Nate?"

I had no idea what she meant and looked to Emma for help. Emma had apparently already planned for these questions and answered for me.

"Nate's still an intern at one of the city papers. He's actually a friend of a friend so he's not on any of your official lists. I'm just doing him a favour-"

"And I'm very grateful Emma," I added quickly, desperate to not be silent for this whole conversation.

Emma smiled and said, "Just pencil him in for a couple of hours.

Wendy scrolled through her calendar on her iPad as Emma and I looked at each other with goofy looking grins on our faces. We both struggled to curb our excitement in front of everyone in the hotel lobby, which at this moment seemed like the entire population of Sydney. Eventually Wendy said,

"Well, you're almost completely booked up today. Tomorrow is jam-packed, what with junket lasting from morning to arfternoon and the premiere in the evening, so I can't fit him in then. But you're free anytime after 1 o'clock on Wednesday. How long do you suppose you'll need for your questions?"

Emma and I both frowned when we heard that. Neither of us wanted to wait two days. But Emma, ever the consummate professional simply replied,

"We just need a couple of hours," Emma answered.

Wendy raised an eyebrow and asked me, "For an interview? How many questions do you have?"

"We also want to catch up afterwards. We're old friends," Emma quickly said before I could get a word in.

"I thought he was a friend of a friend," asked Wendy, clearly becoming suspicious.

"Wendy, can you please just find us a couple of hours to catch up? When I added the extra days to this trip, it wasn't so you could fill them up with interviews and photoshoots," Emma replied with a hint of frustration.

This came as news to me. When she said she'd be in Sydney most of the week, I assumed it was just for work. It never occurred to me she wanted to put aside a couple of days for us to spend together. Wendy, sensing Emma's mild annoyance, looked over her iPad again and said,

"Well, you have leave for your photoshoot with Vogue in about an hour, and I wanted to go over your itinerary first, but I suppose that can wait."

Emma mouthed the words "thank you" to Wendy before grabbing my arm and leading me towards the elevator. We didn't say a word until we stepped inside and the doors closed. All the prying eyes disappeared until there was just me and her in a small confined space. Alone at last. Emma, being shorter than I was, stood on her toes and kissed me on the cheek before saying,

"Sorry about all that. I can't seem to get anytime to myself these days."

The kiss took me by surprise and had me reeling as she continued to talk.

"I'm glad you came," she said.

"I'm glad you called. To be honest, I never expected you would," I replied.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Because you're Emma Watson."

"And?"

I let out a nervous chuckle before replying; "And, big actresses like yourself don't go seeking the company of guys like me when you could literally choose from any other guy in the world."

"I probably could," she said with more of a tone of resignation than pride.

"So why me?"

"You made me smile. And you looked at me as someone other than Hermione Granger."

"I'm not sure how true that is but I can't be the only one."

"No, I guess not. I do bump into nice guys like every so often on these promotional tours. But I never did with them what I did with you."

"Lucky me," I said in a much sleazier voiced than I had intended. "How was your flight?"

"Long. London to Sydney always is."

The elevator doors opened into a hallway that led to a single door. It didn't occur to me until now but Emma was going to be staying in hotel penthouse. Emma waltzed in like she owned the place. The glitz and glamour didn't faze her at all, although she did seem rather taken aback by the gorgeous view of Sydney Harbour. She stood by the large windows that ran from floor to ceiling and wall to wall which provided a near 180 degree look at the city. Meanwhile I just had to stand there in the middle of the room and gawk at the penthouse. It was basically a large apartment furnished with expensive furniture and packed with luxury hotel amenities from gift baskets to a fully stocked bar.

"How long until you have to leave for that photoshoot," I asked as I walked around the place and peeked into every nook and cranny; soaking up the life of luxury.

"Not long. An hour at most."

I took a peek into the bedroom and to see a large king sized bed. Something told me we would be spending a lot of time there. Emma quietly walked up behind me and peaked into the bedroom.

"Give you any ideas?" she said.

"A few."

Emma smiled and walked back to the windows. I was so unused to such extravagance that I was barely paid any attention to Emma and continued to gawk at the penthouse. Eventually, Emma said,

"I hate to be crass Nate, but do you mind?"

"What?" I asked as I turned around to face her.

Emma was still standing by the window. But sometime in the past 30 seconds, she had removed her shirt and was currently reaching behind her back to unclasp her bra. My jaw hit the floor.

"It was a really long flight. I badly need to relax," she said seductively with that accent of hers.

"Just one elaborate and expensive booty call," I muttered.

Emma chuckled and shrugged at my comment. I began walking towards her as the white bra slipped from her shoulders and fell to the floor. And there they were. Just as small and perky as I remembered.

"Do you want me to turn off my phone like last time?" I asked.

"I don't care. Just fuck me Nate," Emma said with a surprising bluntness.

A sense of déjà vu came over me I looked at her. But there was also a sense of confusion. What was it about me that made me so lucky? Why did she choose me? I would've dwelled on these questions for longer but in that moment, I stopped thinking with my head and started thinking with another body part as I began to hurriedly take off my jeans. She followed suit and began to peel off her skin tight black leggings down her smooth legs before casually kicking them across the room. I took off my shirt as quickly as possible so I could continue to stare at her nubile young body. We both stood nearly completely naked. She only wore her panties and I my underwear. Nothing needed to be said. I slowly took my underwear off and so did she. We were both stark naked, and judging by the way she stared hungrily at me erection, we were both ready.

I approached her slowly and wrapped my arms around her and squeezed our naked bodies together. A multitude of sensations occurred at one from the feeling of her breasts pushing up against my chest, to my penis pushing against her tight hole, one hand on her rear and another on her long silky smooth back, my lips on hers and her tongue against my own, and my God, that perfume. It was approaching sensory overload.

I pushed her up against the window and guided the tip of my penis to her hot opening and slowly pushed in. Emma let out a long pleasurable sigh as the walls of her vagina tightened around me. Emma stood with her back flat against the window and made no attempt to move us anywhere else. She grabbed my head with one hand as she began to passionately kiss me. I reached down and lifted her left leg up while wrapping my other arm around her waist.

If I was being honest, it'd been awhile since I had sex so I seriously doubted my ability to last very long. But then she was already surprisingly wet, so maybe I wouldn't have to. As unfathomable as it may seem, I think she might have been looking forward to this as much as me.

Without bothering to build up any steam, I instantly began to thrust in and out of her with great intensity. Each thrust squashed her buttocks up against the window. To my surprise, Emma didn't mind and pushed forward to meet my thrusts. I watched as her jaw slackened and she began to moan on pleasure. I watched as she looked the length of her body and saw the sight of my penis moving in and out of her; seemingly happy with what she saw, she threw her head back and once more pushed her hips forward, driving me deep inside of her. I pushed right back and slammed her against the window once more and reached up and grabbed her breasts in both hands causing her to gasp.

Her insides were so slick by now, allowing me to move in and out of her with ease. I lost track of how much time passed we stood there fucking against the glass but eventually, and almost at once, I felt myself climax and empty myself inside of her. I groaned loudly and forcefully pushed against her in long deep thrusts giving her everything I had left. I wasn't sure if she had had her release but I was done. Suddenly without warning, Emma pushed my hips back slightly, and while I was still hard, slammed herself down hard on my cock driving me deep inside of her. Once wasn't enough, nor was twice enough, but on the third time, we pushed roughly against each other and Emma cried out so loudly she might as well have been screaming. Her whole body collided with the window again as she leapt up and wrapped her legs around me. I held her in my arms as I felt a fresh wave of moisture pour out of her while she continued to convulse from her orgasm. She rested head against my shoulder and breathed deeply into my ear.

"Bring back any memories?" she muttered.

I chuckled wearily and nodded as I continued to hold her to me until my arms began to tire. Slowly, I lowered us both down until we crumpled on the floor beside the window, still holding each other and panting.

"So...you just get right to the point don't you?" I said.

"Are you complaining?" she asked between deep breaths.

"No, I just never thought I'd be here again."

"Life full of surprises," she said.

"Believe me, I know," I chuckled.

I sat up slightly and lowered my mouth onto her breasts and took her nipple between my lips. Emma smiled and moaned softly as I began to gently suck on her nipples as her breasts heaved up and down with every breath she took. Emma began to run her fingers my hair and nudged my head from once breast to the other.

"I'm sorry if that seemed sudden, but it's just been really a long time," she bemoaned

"A long time since?" I asked.

Emma craned her head to look down at me. With her nipple still in my mouth, I looked up. Emma's expression said it all. I dropped the subject and continued to lazily fondle and suck on her breasts. They were just as firm and perky as I remembered. I lapped up her nipples hungrily whilst kneading her other breast, savouring the feeling of her young flesh my hand. Emma didn't seem to mind and just laid there on her back silently. After more than a minute of silence, she said,"I've thought a lot about our time together in the past few months."

I didn't reply immediately. From the way she said it, I had a feeling she had been building up to it. As I lazily traced a finger around and under her breasts, I replied,

"Me too. Although it's kinda ruined my enjoyment of the Harry Potter films. I can't watch any of them without picturing you naked and squirming in pleasure in beneath me."

"That's sweet. I think," she chuckled.

"So what do you have planned for us this week anyway?" I asked.

"What do you mean?"

With one final tug of her nipple and finally let go and looked at her. I thought my question was obvious, but she looked genuinely confused by it.

"I'm just curious why you brought me to Sydney."

She smiled and ran her hand seductively down the length of her body before lightly running her finger up and down her wet slit and replied, "Look between my legs and find out."

"Well, that was quite fun, but I'm assuming you brought me here for more than just sex."

The smile disappeared from Emma's face and she took a long pause before answering. "Would it be so bad if it was?"

"Any time spent with you isn't bad. Hell, I'm still star struck just looking at you, but the thing is... we don't really know each other," I said, choosing my words carefully. "I mean, not really."

I suddenly cursed myself inwardly. Emma Watson throws herself at me and my immediate reaction is to have sex with her and then engage in an absurdly uncomfortable conversation before we even have a chance to catch our breaths. Nevertheless, Emma took and deep breath and replied.

"I know this strange Nate. And I know I probably seem like some crazy nympho at the moment, but do you think you could just, you know, ask me again later. There's a lot I want to talk to you about, but for now, can we just enjoy this."

"Okay,' I answered, thankful for the reprieve.

Even as she said those words, I could tell there was a lot on her mind. Her fragility in that moment dispelled so many of the presumptions I had about her and yet, reaffirmed many of those I had celebrities in general. I remembered what I had learnt about her the first time. Ultimate, she was just a 23 year old girl who could be just as awkward in dating as the next person.

"Ah fuck it," she blurted out suddenly.

After eight Harry Potter films, it was almost as big a shock to see her swear like that as it was to see her naked. I didn't say a word and waited for her to continue.

"Listen Nate, I'm gonna be honest. It's been a pretty bad year."

She paused for a moment. The suspense was killing me. Knowing all to well I'm less than accomplished at have deep and meaningful conversations than just having fun, I tried to lighten the mood and said,

"Now now, the reviews for the film weren't THAT bad."

Emma laughed and suddenly I was glad her sense of humour was still the same as I remembered. Emma sat up and my eyes immediately wandered to her chest again. Despite her nakedness, she continued rather solemnly and said,

"It's not that. When we first met all those months ago, you mentioned that I had recently broken up with my boyfriend."

"I remember. I Googled you."

"One of the downsides of fame; everything about you can be Googled," she chuckled before continuing: "Us getting together might have had a lot to do with that break up. We had been dating for a long time but during those last few months, I had really gotten into my work and suddenly all these movies were piling up and I saw him less and less. He got angry, I got angry because he was angry and I stormed out of his apartment one evening. It was ugly, and the fact I left the country almost immediately after the argument probably didn't help. We never really broke up but it didn't really need to be said. A few weeks later, I was on a promotional tour for my new movie. In the middle of it, I got lonely, so I called him up only to find he had moved on and was with someone else. I got depressed and went into a bit of a nosedive. God, at times I thought I was quickly becoming just another fucked up child star. A couple of months passed and then I found myself in Melbourne for the premiere and I met you."

"So I was a rebound?" I asked.

"No, well yes actually," she admitted. "But believe me, it was more than that. Being with you was the only fun I had had since the break up. And in all the months since, it was still one of the only time I forgot about my ex and could just enjoy myself."

"So that's why you called me?" I said, not particularly convinced.

"Yeah. I have to admit, I never really had any intention of calling you. I figured it was just a one time thing. But as soon as I left Melbourne, I was back to square one, living a lonely existence of working all the time and not really having any sort of constant in my life. I've been a bit melancholy ever since. But I would always think back to our time together and how much fun it was just to kick back and relax with you."

I don't think she realised it, but her words had made me the happiest person in the world in that moment whilst also elevating my ego to massive proportions. I couldn't wipe the smile from my face which was probably a bad thing considering she was really opening up to me about what seemed like mild depression.

"What are you smiling about?" Emma asked curiously.

"Sorry, I know this is serious but I must've been really good in bed to leave such an impression."

I thought for a moment I had crossed the line from charming to crass. But thankfully, Emma's sense of humour was just as dry and mischievous as mine and she laughed in spite of herself.

"You can believe that if it helps you sleep at night," she laughed as she leaned in and gave me a quick peck on the lips, "But for me, it was more than just meaningless sex."

"It was pretty meaningful to me; I got to have sex with Hermione Granger," I said, trying to push my luck.

Emma smiled widely playfully pushed my face away.

"It's just, I don't often meet anyone who treated me the way you did."

The comment genuinely confused me. She spoke as if I was someone special who oozed charm and charisma. I never thought of myself as someone who could get a girl like her. I just thought I had the power to amuse her momentarily with my sense of humour and that was it.

"I don't follow," I replied.

"You were clearly nervous to talk to be, but you weren't crippled by it. You showed casual interest in my fame, but you weren't obsessed by it. And I sensed you weren't the type of guy who just wanted to sleep with a girl so he could show off to his friends. You treated me as a regular person."

"That's all it takes to win you over?"

"Look, what I'm trying to say is, I could use some company this week. I'm just so burnt out from this celebrity lifestyle. It's felt like it's been ages since I've done something for myself."

"I know how you feel. I use to look forward to being a lawyer. It always got me really excited. But now that I'm working full time, it's just so fucking draining."

"God, listening to you, I feel so spoilt complaining about my life. I mean, you're actually doing an honest days work."

"Don't feel bad. I understand. Dealing with the paparazzi alone must be a nightmare. I saw what they were like downstairs. I even saw those latest upskirt shots of you in London last week."

"It was a windy day," she explained nonchalantly. "But at least I was wearing my knickers."

We both shared a laugh. I liked that she wasn't afraid to poke fun at herself. We continued to lie there on the ground, just happy to be in each other's company.

"So tell me about your work? What kind of law do you work in?" she asked with genuine interest.

She was clearly trying to change the conversation, and while I sensed she had more to say, I decided she had opened up enough for one morning. And so we began to engage in normal chitchat. With all the sex we had had back then, it was sometimes hard to remember how much fun Emma and I had had just talking, whether it was about music, food, TV and even movies (just not her own of course).

It didn't feel awkward at all. It's strange, we had known each other for about two days and then didn't see each other for 7 months; now suddenly here we were back together talking about our favourite episodes of 'The Simpsons'. We lost track of time just chatting idly until Emma checked her phone and saw it was noon. She practically jumped to her feet.

"Shit, I gotta go," Emma said as she gathered her clothes. "Will you be okay here?"

"Hold on, you're just going to leave me here? I feel so used," I said sarcastically.

"Don't be such a girl," she chuckled.

"Put it this way, last time you left me, you left the country and didn't come back for 7 months," I said as I sat up.

"Well come on, let's face it Nate, that was basically a prolonged one night stand," she said as she slipped on her bra.

"I know, I was never under any other illusions otherwise. And yet here we are 7 months later."

She slid her panties up her legs; other items of clothing quickly followed. I hate watching her get dressed.

"Yes, but we'll be spending at the very least the whole week together."

"What do you mean 'at the very least'?"

Emma seemed to ponder the question for a moment before coming up with a non-answer and replying,

"I'll be back in no time. I just have to get this Vogue photoshoot out of the way and then we can go out to dinner with Russell and the crew."

"Russell? You mean Russell Crowe? We're having dinner with him?" I asked surprised, immediately forgetting my previous line of inquiry.

"Yeah, you told me on the phone said you wanted to meet him. Well, now you can meet him. He's hosting a dinner at a restaurant for the cast and crew who are here for the premiere."

Emma, now fully clothed, checked her purse to see if she had everything. Meanwhile, I was still sitting naked on the floor, barely recovered from what was now best described as a quickie.

"Feel free to order up. Everything is on the Studio's dime," she said as she checked her watch. "Damn, I really have to go. Wendy will be angry if I'm late."

Emma literally ran towards the door, but whether it was pity or just hormones, she turned around and ran back to me and kissed me passionately with those soft, supple lips of hers. Neither of us wanted to break the kiss, and I considered pulling her down to the floor and tearing her clothes off again but she simply pulled away and headed back towards the door.

"I'll be back soon. I promise," she said.

And with that, she was gone. And as with any other time I had been in Emma's company, I was left thinking whether the last hour had been a dream or not. But as I turned my head around and looked out at the panoramic view of Sydney Harbour, I knew this was very real. I gathered up my clothes and decided to make the most of the all expenses paid hotel penthouse.

***

Emma hadn't provided me with a card to access the penthouse I was basically confined there. Although this wasn't necessarily a bad thing since it was apparently one of the most luxurious hotel penthouses in Sydney. I briefly considered looking over some work I had from my job which I was unable to delegate, however legal work was boring and I had used up some of my vacation days to be here, so I decided to act accordingly by kicking back and relaxing. In the midst of drinking champagne and briefly considering recreating Tom Cruise's pants-less dance from 'Risky Business', I noticed there was a large pile of scripts in an open bag beside Emma's luggage. I pulled the top script from the pile and noticed a Post-It note stuck to the top which read:

"YOU NEED TO PICK YOUR NEXT PROJECT EM, STRIKE WHILE THE IRON IS HOT. ANY ONE OF THESE IS A WINNER."

Without anything better to do, I sat down and began reading one of the scripts. Long story short (and I mean LONG story), it was a pretty awful read. Well, something had to go wrong with my day eventually I guess.

***

Emma didn't return until 6 o'clock. She came through the door slathered in rather ghastly makeup and rocking and brand new hairdo which she explained to me it were from the photoshoot. She removed the makeup almost immediately before I could even make fun of her. Although to Vogue Magazine's credit, she apparently liked what they did with her hair and didn't touch it.

And then like a girl telling her boyfriend to get ready for date night, she began pressuring me to pick out a nice set of clothes and to help her choose her own. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't been anticipating more sex when she got back, but I suppose having dinner with some Hollywood royalty was just as good.

The dinner itself was strange for many reasons. I was thrust into the middle of a dinner with Emma Watson, two famous Hollywood actors, one of whom was an Oscar winner, and an Oscar nominated director. Suddenly I felt very aware of how out of place I was. Whenever I was alone with Emma, I could perhaps fool myself into thinking she was just some ordinary girl. The fact that she wasn't a spoilt diva helped aid in this illusion. But being surrounded by all these famous people at once was rather intimidating. Naturally, I remained rather quiet and was content with being a fly on the wall. It was a rather quiet dinner, but everyone seemed to be having a good time. It was interesting for me to see Emma interacting with others. My time with her had largely been one on one, so it was refreshing to see her kick back and have a few drinks and share a few laughs.

***

We got back to the penthouse late, I couldn't be sure what time. As I sat on the bed and took off my shoes, Emma began to undress in front of me. Once more, I was struck with how familial our situation was. Despite the banality of the moment, it was as if we were sharing a moment that only couples shared. It felt strange. I also realised in that moment that I had made the assumption I was staying in the penthouse with her tonight. Apparently she had come to the same conclusion and didn't bat an eyelash as I began to undress.

"I had fun tonight," I said as I took off my jeans.

"I'm glad. It's was great getting to see everybody again," she replied as she slowly unzipped her pencil skirt.

"What do you mean 'again'?"

"Well you know, we made the movie for a couple of months. We all got on really well and then we never see each other again except when we do these promotional tours. It's kinda sad."

"Thought you'd have been use to it by now."

"Not really. I spent 10 years on Harry Potter with the same cast. I guess this way of working is still a bit new to me."

I climbed onto the bed wearing only my undershirt and shorts and watched as Emma slowly removed her blouse. She stood there in her white bra and panties as she began to rummage through her suitcase. I just sat there and admired the view before saying exactly what was on my mind,

"You know, you can put something on, but I'm probably just going to take it off again in about 5 minutes."

Emma chuckled and turned around to look at me. I merely moved my gaze down at the large welcoming mattress. Emma simply shrugged and laid down on the bed.

"What am I lying on," she mumbled as she shifted around uncomfortably on the bed.

Emma pulled the script I had been reading earlier in the day from out under her.

"Oh yeah, I was reading a bunch of your scripts earlier in the day. Hope you don't mind," I explained.

"Not at all. Anything good? My agent is pressuring me to choose my next movie."

"Well, far be it from me to disagree with your Hollywood agent but I thought they were all pretty bad. Although there was a pretty sleazy one called 'Sunset' which I'd like to see you in."

"I read that one," she said with a cheeky smile. "I'm not taking the part but it made for some good reading material on a couple of lonely nights."

I simply raised an eyebrow and smiled at her comment before replying, "Speaking of sleazy, I've been wondering. Was there any truth to those rumours that you were going to star in the adaptation of '50 Shades of Grey'?"

Emma laughed out loud and turned to look at me. "Do you seriously think I would ever take that role? Seriously? For real?"

"Maybe I just like the idea of you naked and tied up," I said with a wry smile on my face.

"You be good and I might let you do that to me sometime. But forget about any dreams you might have of me in '50 Shades'. My career isn't that bad."

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear anything you said after you gave me permission to tie you up."

"Sorry to disappoint by I left my handcuffs in London," she joked.

"I have a couple of neck ties in my bag I could use."

"You'd like that would you?" she asked, making use of her English accent to sound just that little bit more seductive.

"I'd want you tied to all four corners of the bed and finger you ever so slowly and tease you to an orgasm," I said as I drew upon every single one of my fantasies I'd ever had about her.

Emma smiled widely and, while still in her bra and panties, sat down on bed beside me in a particularly sexy pose. It took all my restraint not tear away those remain items of clothing and take her. Naturally, I began to gaze up and down her body, paying particular attention to those flimsy white cotton panties of hers, but she was having none of it and raised her hand up to my chin and brought my gaze back up to her eyes.

"I'd like that," she said, before adding, "But not today."

She leaned in to kiss me, but this time it was me who placed a hand on her lips and held her at bay for a moment.

"Before we do anything, we never did finish our talk earlier this morning."

"We didn't?" she asked while my fingers were still on her lips. She began to slowly part her lips and ever so slightly purse them over my fingertips. If she was trying to make me lose my train of thought, she was doing an exceptional job. Nevertheless, I just bit my lip and continued.

"Earlier you hinted we may be spending even more time together than just this week. I'm curious to know what you have in mind. Is this going to be more than just a weeklong fling?"

"I was hoping we could avoid that conversation for now. But I suppose I should know better than to mince words with a lawyer," I sighed.

"Then let me say something first. I like you. I like you a lot. I like you as a person, not just as a celebrity. I took a whole damn week off work to be here with you. And with my responsibilities at work, that's not a good idea. But I did it without hesitation. If you were to ask me to go with you to Siberia right now, I would."

"I'm not asking you to go to Siberia," she chuckled. "I'm not even asking you to leave your home. It's just, after I finish up here, I'll have a few months off before I start on my new film. I was thinking I need a break. This lifestyle I'm living now, it's draining."

"I'm sure the money helps," I replied glibly with perhaps just a hint of judgment.

"To a certain extent," she shrugged, "But money can't buy me privacy from the paparazzi. And it certainly can't buy me the company of a good friend."

Emma looked me directly in the eyes now, as if preparing to gauge my reaction to what she was about to say next. She chose her words carefully and spoke slowly.

"That's why I was thinking maybe, just maybe, I could come stay with you for awhile. You know, and maybe you could show me what life is in Australia."

My mind went into overdrive and it took everything I had to maintain a calm façade. The implication of what she just said was mind-blowing and I could barely process it. I didn't have any kind of response to that. My mouth opened but words didn't come out. She saw this and continued to speak,

"It's just been awhile since I just lived like a normal person. And I need a change, if only temporarily, or else I'm gonna burn out and end up being another Hollywood cautionary tale. Being with you, here in this country, well, if I play my cards right, it could just afford me the privacy I've been looking for," she explain.
I took in all this new information and tried to imagine all the consequences. I think Emma Watson was asking me to play house with her. And yet, I was still speechless and I didn't know how to respond. Sensing this, Emma continued to talk, more likely than not just to fill the silence that would have occurred if she didn't.

"Look, I know this is crazy. I know I'm asking you to skip to about 20 dates into a relationship but I just really need a sea change. I lost weekend so to speak," she asked as she tried to gauge me reaction.

Still, nothing. This may be the longest I've ever gone without saying anything. I knew what I wanted to say of course, but such a big decision wasn't to be made lightly. A week of casual sex was one thing; it almost made sense, even if it was with Emma Watson, but living together before we even really knew each other was an entirely different thing.

Emma, perhaps realising the gravity what she was proposing said, "You know what, don't respond now. In fact, you shouldn't. It wasn't fair of me to spring this on you."

"You think?" I scoffed, finally breaking my silence.

"Just think about it okay," she said as she flashed me another one of her smiles.

"Alright."

Emma let out a sigh, apparently one of relief, and laid down on the bed beside me. I realised then that she had been nervous in giving me this proposition. Emma Watson, the movie star, was nervous about talking to me. It was yet more evidence that I had been teleported to some strange backwards world where regular logic didn't apply.

We both got under the sheets and prepared for sleep without saying much else. She wore her bra and panties, and me a shirt and shorts, and yet we didn't even have sex. I need all the blood flow going to my head. I had some thinking to do. However, after about 5 minutes of complete silence between us, she began to unhook her bra before tossing it across the room.

"What are you doing to me? You know I can't resist you when you look like that?" I moaned.

"Just because I don't like earing a bra to sleep, doesn't mean we have to have sex," she replied innocently.

"I guess."

Another minute past and suddenly I saw her reach beneath the sheets and after a few moments, pulled her panties out and similarly tossed them away.

"Okay," I muttered.

Before she could grasp my meaning, I climbed on top of her and we began to kiss slowly. Unlike our frenzied quickie this morning, I could already sense we were going to take this slower. In the back of my mind, I was wondering if this was her way of convincing me to agree with her proposal; not that I minded of course.

As our bodies intertwined and I felt myself slide into her hot, tight wetness, I thought to myself that I could get use to this. But then reason kicked in and I heard a little voice inside my head say, "too fast, it would be far too fast". But then as I savoured the taste of her tits as I ran my tongue over her nipples, the voice repeated again, "too fast". I paused so that I could look at her for a moment; she looked like a Goddess. I wanted her in my life as much as possible. But this time my inner monologue said, "stop thinking with your dick. You can't just shack up together like this".

Suddenly, she pushed me off of her until I laid on my back and she dove underneath the sheets. A few seconds passed and suddenly I felt her lips on the tip of my penis. I ran my fingers through my hair and looked up at the ceiling. Back in Melbourne, Emma had flinched at the taste of my semen in her mouth and ran to the bathroom to spit and rinse. This time, she took my entire length into her mouth. She gagged once and came up coughing and gasping for air, however she didn't complain and resumed almost immediately. As she began to swirl her tongue up and down the length of my shaft, I swept the sheets back so I could see her doing it with my own eyes. It felt like Heaven. I can't remember how it finished. I don't know if I came inside of her mouth or if she climbed on top of me and began to ride me to avoid just that. All I know is I ejaculated somewhere inside of her and all I could think was, "seriously, what's there to think about, this is Emma Watson".

***

We woke up the next morning and didn't speak about our talk. As we sat and ate the breakfast we had ordered up to the room, we talked instead about the local tourist attractions in Sydney, I explained to her how Australian rules football works, she talked about her favourite cities and she told me about her dread at the upcoming 5 or so hours of interviews with the Australian media. She said I didn't have to come with her and could just spend the day shopping in Sydney. She even offered me her credit card to use but I told her my ego wouldn't allow for such as emasculating gesture, notwithstanding the fact she was a famous actress worth millions of dollars. Nevertheless, I decided to join her on the press junket, if only out of curiosity.

It was a strange setup to say the least. Basically an entire floor of a building repurposed for interviews with the director and the cast; one famous person per room and an endless stream of journalists lining to interview them.

It soon became abundantly clear that the whole process was very repetitious with most of the journalists simply asking the same damn questions about the movie again and again. And as Emma had told me prior to coming here, they had been doing this in numerous countries around the world upon release. It went on for hours, and it seemed like every journalist in Australia was coming through those doors. Emma was all smiles of course, but I could tell she became less and less enthusiastic as the day wore on. It was only in the few moments of solitude she got between interviews that I really saw how bored and borderline miserable she was. But then the next reporter would walk in and ever the consummate professional, Emma smiled and laughed and gave a good interview. She even granted them photos and allowed one or two of the interviewers a few extra minutes. By all appearances she was having the time of her life, but I could tell it was wearing her thin.

I thought back to when I had first met her under very similar circumstances. Emma had arrived in Melbourne late and as a result, her people had turned her hotel room into an ad hoc interviewing room. The interviews started late and ended very very late. All the noised woke me up and caused me to storm over to her room and demand that she keep the noise down. As they say, the rest is history. It was hard to believe Emma had been doing this since she was a kid. With that in mind, I guess it was hard to fault her for becoming so sullen and dispirited; growing up in the limelight must take its toll.

I eventually wandered out of Emma's room and into hallway in order to escape the mundaneness of the proceedings. It turns out the hallway was a madhouse with people manically running back and forth while a long line of reporters were led from room to room. Eventually, Emma's publicist, Wendy, approached me and asked,

"Have you seen Mark?"

"I don't know who that is," I admitted.

"He's one of the producers for the films, I need to give him a revised timetable. He's a tall guy with the glasses?" she asked, hoping it would jog my memory.

"Still have no idea who that is."

"Damn," she muttered.

We stood there awkwardly for a few moments. Two people with absolutely nothing in common except that we both know Emma. Eventually she said, and I suspected more to break the silence than for any other reason,

"You know, every reporter here would kill for a one hour interview like you got."

Suddenly remembering my earlier lie, I stammered, "Uh yeah, it was awfully nice of Emma to give me the exclusive. My editor will be happy," I said, lying through my teeth.

A small smile crept across Wendy's face. I gave her a questioning look before she replied,

"I know you're not really a reporter Nate. You and Emma are both terrible liars."

I laughed with relief. Wendy didn't seem angry at being lied to, if anything, she seemed amused. I suppose as Emma's publicist, she was the one person we could trust with the knowledge of our secret dalliance.

"So what do you really do Nate?" she asked.

"I'm a lawyer. Although I actually do have a journalism degree," I said.

"Good for you. Good steady job," she said with sincerity. "You like it?"

"Not really," I admitted.

Wendy smiled. "Hardly anyone likes their job anymore."

"Does Emma?" I asked.

To my surprise, Wendy actually stopped the think about the question before slowly replying, "I think so. But she can be hard to read. I know she's been a bit melancholy lately. Although she seems to have cheered up since you arrive. I'm glad she has you."

"We're just friends," I said.

"Uh huh," she replied, clearly unconvinced. "Call it what you want, but it's only been a day and Emma's been cheerier than I've seen her in months."

"Really?"

"Yeah. She was smiling more, cracking jokes and really eager to get back to the hotel. I'm guessing you're staying there?"

I merely nodded as she continued to speak.

"To be honest with you, I've been thinking lately that this lifestyle is getting to her. With the paparazzi chasing her around the globe, nothing in her life is private anymore. And she's been moving around so much from movie set to movie set this past year that she's barely had any time for any relaxation. If I didn't know better, I'd say she wants to go back to university and live like a normal 23 year old for awhile."

It felt almost liberating to talk about Emma with someone else, although I wasn't entirely sure why Wendy would so freely tell me all this.

"Well, she can afford to go unemployed for awhile," I replied.

Wendy chuckled before replying, "She can afford it, but I'm not sure her career can. You don't make the most of your chances in this business and you'll be forgotten very quickly. And at this in Emma's career, she really needs to build up her post-Harry Potter credentials; God knows her agent and her manager remind her at every opportunity."

I stared Wendy for a moment as she absentmindedly looked at her phone. I don't know why but that comment stuck with me. Perhaps it had something to do with the conversation Emma and I had last night. After a moment, I just excused myself and asked Wendy to tell Emma I'd meet her back at the hotel.

***

I got back to the hotel several hours later after a detour to see the sights and sounds of Sydney Harbour. Once I was back however, I grudgingly opened up my suitcase and took out the work I had brought along on the trip. Perhaps it was because I had been having fun with Emma since I arrived in Sydney, but drafting legal documents and reading over affidavits felt particularly mind-numbing. But then, I had been getting this feeling for awhile now. Call it listlessness, call it ennui or whatever else, but I could suddenly relate to Emma's feeling of dissatisfaction with her life. Maybe a large part is the fact that only last year, I was still in university and going on pub crawls and hanging out with friends during the middle of a weekday. Now, I had a job, I had responsibilities and I had precious little time for anything else. It seems silly, spoilt even, to complain about your life when you're in a well paying job at a reputable law firm. Like Emma I was only 23, and 23 is far too young to be having such feelings about your life. The work I had brought along probably could've been completed in two hours. After three hours, I hadn't even completed a half of it.

***

Emma wasn't back till later in the afternoon. Once again, she found me sitting on the bed reading another one of her scripts, a comedy this time; although it was hard to tell because 50 pages in and hadn't laughed once. Emma walked into the room wordlessly and collapsed face first onto the mattress. I laughed and ask,

"How was it?"

"Interviews from 9 am till 3:30 pm. Tedious doesn't even begin to describe it," she mumbled without lifting her face from the mattress. "And now I only have about 3 hours to get ready for the premiere."

"Well that should be more fun," I said without looking away from the script I was reading.

"Oh it's great fun, but you don't give a woman such little time to prepare for a film premiere," she said as she sat up straight. "Speaking of which, feel like joining me tonight?"

"Sorry, but I left my tux at home."

"Well it's a good thing I sent for one this morning."

"What?" I asked.

Emma smiled widely, obviously taking great joy in my surprised, and said, "A beautiful Burberry tuxedo. I'm modelled for them and called in a favour. It'll be delivered here before 5 o'clock."

"How do you know my size?"

"I don't, Wendy did. She can tell just by looking. She's really clever like that."

"So I'll be on the red carpet with you?"

"No, you'll be on the red carpet, but not with me. I don't want tomorrow's top headline to be 'Emma Watson has new Australian boyfriend'," she said before quickly adding, "No offence."

"None taken," I said, and I genuinely meant it.

"Just stick with Wendy."

"Done."

Suddenly she laid back down and rested her head on my leg and said,

"Read to me."

"What?"

"I read that script when I was on the plane. Sent me right to sleep," she said before closing her eyes and adding, "Wake me in an hour."

I did as she asked and began to read. But as I sat there in bed with Emma resting her head on my leg and drifting off to sleep, I couldn't escape the feeling again that I had entered into some relationship time machine.

***

Panic set over me at once; we had both fallen asleep. Are we sleeping through the premiere? I looked down and realised Emma wasn't lying beside me anymore. I quickly leapt to my feet and ran out the bedroom. The light was on in the bathroom. I immediately walked towards it and opened the door to find Emma standing in front of the bathroom mirror wearing a hotel bathrobe and putting the finishing touches of her makeup, which along with her hair looked utterly perfect.

"What's up?!" she asked.

"Nothing. I fell asleep that's all. Didn't know where you were," I replied.

"I'm right here," she said with a smile.

"Yeah, you are," I said with genuine relief.

"You're tux arrived. I hung it on the door to the bedroom."

"Thanks. I hope it fits," I said as I walked back towards the bedroom.

I unzipped the bag and looked at the suit for a moment. It was absolutely beautiful, and presumably far more expensive that anything in my wardrobe.

"How much did this thing cost?" I called out to Emma.

"I don't know. But they gave me it for free. Perks of people a Burberry representative," she replied loudly.

"Okay, but retail price; are we talking about hundreds of dollars or thousands here?"

"I don't know about Australian dollars but it's certainly over a thousand pounds," she said casually, as if the price tag meant nothing to her (and it probably didn't).

I left the suit where it was and walked back towards the bathroom.

"You're a very easy person to like Em," I said.

When I reached the doorway to the bathroom, I saw Emma was no longer wearing a bathrobe. Instead she had on a stunning little black dress that hugged her body nicely. Like everything else about Emma, it looked elegant and classy. It showed just a small hint of cleavage and tastefully went about midway down her thighs. And like I said, her hair and makeup were perfect. All in all, she looked every bit the Hollywood icon.

"Listen, about last night," I said.

Emma didn't turn around and instead continued to look at herself in the mirror and adjust her hair. But I could tell from her face she was merely trying to play it cool.

"I still have 4 weeks paid vacation after this and I've always wanted to see England," I said as calmly as I could.

That made Emma turn around, albeit very slowly. There was a wide smile on her smile on her face which she struggled to suppress. For an actress, she could be quite bad at hiding her emotions. Choosing her words carefully, she said,

"Maybe not England, that's my home and the paparazzi are just as ruthless there as they are in LA."

"Well then how about Paris?" I asked excitedly.

"They're not that much better either. Tokyo?" she asked.

"Maybe. But I also hear Bali is lovely this time of year."

She took a few steps towards me, smiling widely and said, "Put it this way Nate; whatever the destination, I think I can afford the airfares."

"So? Do you wanna play house with me?"

She didn't need to say "yes" or even nod in acknowledgement. Her smile said it all. I was going to run off overseas with a famous actress. Suddenly a whole wealth of possibilities opened up for me and a life I'd never dreamed of suddenly became reality. My life had become the plot of a cheesy romantic comedy movie.

She leapt forward wrapped her slender arms around me in a warm hug. I was almost entirely sure this was a better deal for me than it was for her. But you wouldn't know it from her reaction.

"I'm so excited!" she said gleefully.

I held her by the shoulders for a moment and took a step back and said,

"Do you have any idea how beautiful you look?"

"Yes," she said with a hint of smugness, "I bet you wouldn't look too bad wearing the tux."

She walked back towards the bathroom mirror and once more inspected her hair and makeup. I followed her and from behind, I held her in my arms again. We stood there swaying side to side in the middle of the room for a moment as we both just stared at the mirror and into each others eyes. She turned her head and I leaned in and gave her a soft kiss on the lips as my hands began to drift down to her shapely rear.

"Don't. I finally look perfect. Don't mess it up," she giggled widely.

"How can I resist when you look like this?"

I firmly squeezed her butt-cheeks with my hands. Emma let out a low chuckle as she began to clearly debate whether or not she wanted to celebrate our new plans. Suddenly I realised there was nothing between my hand and her bare skin except for the silk dress.

"You're not wearing any panties," I said.

"This dress works best when you go commando," she said as she began to blush.

"So, if I wanted to, I could just lift up the dress and take you?"

"Don't! You'll wrinkle it!" Emma laughed. "These red carpet fashionistas are merciless. You can have me any which way later tonight."

I knelt down slightly and wrapped my fingers around the hem of her dress. Emma laughed in resignation and didn't resist. I began to slowly hike the black silk up the length of her legs and up around her waist. The dress was so tight it stayed up automatically. I reached down and grabbed her bare arse and squeezed the smooth, firm flesh in my hands. I looked over her shoulder and into the mirror to see her neatly trimmed bush and vagina. I let go of her and began to undo my belt before letting my trousers and underwear fall to the floor. Without saying a word, Emma bent over the basin and spread her legs for me. At the same time, I reached for the zipper running down the back of her dress and tugged down on it, simultaneously bringing down the top half of her dress until it was all bunched up around her waist. I took my penis slowly guided it between her legs and pushed it up against her opening. Emma let out a high pitched cry and jumped forward for a moment and said in a slightly panicked tone,

"Wrong hole Nate!"

We both laughed as I guided the tip of my penis away from her rectum and down to her vagina. I leaned in a whispered into her ear,

"Never tried it?"

"No, and let's keep it that way," she chuckled.

"Fair enough," I said, before adding, "For now."

In the mirror, I saw a small smile on her face as she turned her head around and said,"You can take me any which way you want, but you're not-"

She never finished that sentence. Because at that moment, I pushed the tip of my penis inside of her causing her words to be replaced by a long, low, pleasurable moan. She was damp but not yet wet; but her eyes and body language told me she wanted it. I sunk my penis in all the way and savoured the feeling of her butt-cheeks against my hips. I couldn't resist but giving her a soft smack on her right cheek causing Emma to giggle. I fondled her arse for a few more moments and found myself surprised once more that she possessed such full and bountiful curves. She was a small girl certainly, but I was glad she wasn't one of those emaciated and borderline anorexic actresses.

I pulled out of her and left the tip of my penis pointed squarely at her opening. I caught her gaze in the mirror and watched those beautiful eyes of hers from behind all that perfectly applied eyeliner and eye-shadow. I slid into her once more and watched as those eyes closed and mouth opened silently in pleasure. As I looked at her in the mirror and admired how absolutely perfect she looked, I decided I didn't want to rush things and began to leisurely fuck her by moving in and out of her with long smooth thrusts. I could feel myself spreading apart her tight opening with every thrust as her insides became wetter and slicker.

After a few moments, I watched as Emma pushed herself back to meet my thrusts. I held her there for a few moments as she grinded herself against me, desperate to have me all the way inside of her. Emma eventually let out of soft cry of pleasure as I sank my penis up to the hilt inside of her and then continued to do so time and time again. I continued to feel her the walls of her vagina tightening with every thrust as I felt my orgasm begin to build.

As our pace began to build, I was thankful for the presence of the bathroom mirror which afforded me the stunning view of me taking Emma Watson from behind. Even after all the time we've spent together and all the times we've been intimate, I still liked to remind myself of who she was. As I watched her breasts bounce back and forth underneath her as we fucked, I couldn't help but lean forward and hastily grab one in my hand. I squeezed her firm tit roughly in my hand and pinched her nipple with delight causing her to let out another soft cry.

Not content that she was enjoying this to her maximum potential, I reached around with my other hand lightly ran my fingers over her swollen clitoris. Emma moaned and began to bite her lower lip. Enjoying the pleasure she got from it, I continued rubbing the sensitive little nub. Without warning, I gently took her clit between my thumb and forefinger and began to squeeze it gently; her reaction was as I expected. She cried out loudly in ecstasy whilst trying pushing herself away from my fingers and back against my eagerly awaiting penis. The rough way in which she slammed her arse back against my hips, causing me sink all the way inside of her was enough for me. Emma must have sensed it too since the immediately reached back with both hands and help my hips in place so that I remained firmly inside of her.

"Cum inside of me. I don't want to get anything on my dress," she said between laboured breaths.

"What do you think I've been doing all this time," I chuckled.

I felt myself tighten up before I coated her insides with my semen. Unfortunately for Emma, or perhaps fortunately, my fingers were still on clitoris at the time, and my orgasm only made me squeeze it harder. Emma's reaction this time was borderline violent as she let out almost the loudest cry I'd ever heard from her as her body shot up straight and she flattened herself against me, forcing me back a few steps until we stood cradling each other in the middle of the bathroom. I felt a fresh wave of wetness envelop my penis as her whole body tensed up in the midst of a toe-tingling orgasm.

We remained there for several moments; me standing up straight with my penis still inside of her as she began to slump forward again, still quivering her orgasm. Suddenly, Emma's legs gave way beneath her and she clutched the basin for support. I wrapped my hands around her and held her in place as I leaned forward to kiss her on the back of the neck.

I don't know how long we just stood there over the basin, but eventually I leaned in and whispered into her ear,

"Get cleaned up Emma. You have a premiere to prepare for."

She gave a weak chuckle in reply. I pulled out of her and took a few steps back as she slumped to her knees while still grasping the side of the basin. I looked at her for a moment, looking as beautiful as she possibly could, with an expensive little black dress bunched up around her waist and my semen oozing slowly out of her vagina along with her own juices.

Eventually, Emma did get up and begin to tidy herself up. It was quite a sight to see Emma Watson bent over a basin scooping semen out of her vagina with her fingers and wiping down herself down with a small hand towel. It was times like this that I had to remind myself she was no ordinary girl. She was Emma Watson, the famous actress. And somehow, fate had allowed me to share such a close intimacy with her that she had no hesitation doing stuff like this in front of me. I realised then that I should probably get use to this image, and I should get use to her in my life, because she would be in a fixture now for the foreseeable future.

Despite everything, Emma cleaned herself up rather quickly and soon was looking as impeccable as before. Soon I joined her in my new Burberry tux. Surprisingly, it fit perfectly. Once more we found ourselves in front of the bathroom mirror. Neither of us said anything but I imagine we were both just thinking how good we looked together. It may have been my imagination, but by the time we were walking out the door, she had a skip in her step.

***

The rest of the evening was a blur. I mainly watched from a distance with Wendy and other members of Emma's entourage as she walked the red carpet and posed for photos. She was every bit the consummate professional, and knew her way around the red carpet like it was her home. A couple of times, she looked in my direction and smiled; although as we agreed, we were keeping things on the QT, so I very much remained on the sidelines.

Afterwards, we were rushed into the theatre as the director and cast introduced the film. Then the lights went down the movie began. Emma and the cast and crew were in the best seats in the house whilst I was relegated to the back corner. Almost immediately, I was swept up in the movie and was thoroughly enjoying myself. I was enjoying it so much I almost ignored my phone when I felt it vibrate in my pocket about 15 minutes into the film. Luckily, I decided to take a peek to see who it was. It shouldn't have surprised me to see it was from Emma. The message read:

"I'm bored. Meet me outside."

I looked over to where Emma had been sitting to see her seat was empty along with a few others. I hadn't realised any of them had left. And with that, I stood up out of my seat and slinked towards the exit.

"Nate!" Emma called out the moment I entered the lobby,

I looked to my side to see Emma standing on the other side of the cinema near the candy bar. She merely gestured towards the side exit, and without another word, walked towards it. I followed at a leisurely pace until I met her on the street, away from the red carpet and the stragglers still there.

"Didn't like the movie?" I joked.

"Seen it quite a few times already," she said quietly as she slipped her arm into mine.

Together we walked away from the cinema and down the busy streets of Sydney. Several people recognised her as we walked passed but none stopped to say anything.

"Where to now Miss Watson?" I asked.

"Anywhere we want. I think I'm ready to take a vacation."

"I thought the press tour wasn't finished till tomorrow."

"Russell agreed to cover my television appearances, so I'm all yours. So how about you lead me off the grid for awhile?"

"Tell you what. How about we stay on the grid a little bit longer and pretend like we're just two young people and you let me buy you a drink."

Emma chuckled and nodded in agreement. "It's a date. But um, we don't have to pretend. We're both 23. We are young."

I looked at her and suddenly in that moment, despite how perfect and elegant she looked and despite everything else I knew about her, to me she was just a beautiful 23 year old English girl who I was taking out on a date. And suddenly, this absurd situation I was in felt as normal as any other date. And with that, we walked arm in arm through the city in search of a quiet bar where we could just sit down, talk and share a drink like any other young couple in love.
35 comments

stillers7Report

2014-08-13 04:47:22
well written story, in a way that sounds quite believable as to how one might hook up with a celebrity. I've also been a fan of Emma since the first movie. You could always see the potential

Anonymous readerReport

2014-08-12 22:10:42
convers

Anonymous readerReport

2014-08-12 22:10:16
anny one

Anonymous readerReport

2014-08-12 08:04:15
Part 3

Anonymous readerReport

2014-08-11 00:25:43
wonderful story!!

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