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Introduction:

This story deals with the life of a hollywood agent, I found this on Warez..it's not mine, by some guy called Carnage Jackson
Journal of an Agent: Chapter 1 - Rachael Leigh Cook
By Carnage Jackson (carnagejackson@hotmail.com)

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***

Following the death of my father, I became the inheritor
of his business as a Hollywood agent. I hadn't known too
much of my father, because he left my mother and I when
I was 3 to pursue his dreams in L.A. and Hollywood.
Having not received a birthday card or even a call in
over ten years, I wasn't exactly excited about the idea
of inheriting a business. I had just graduated college
with a degree in English and was looking forward to
finding a job as either a columnist or a teacher or
something to that effect.

My mother died right after I graduated high school, so I
had been on my own for a while. I wasn't planning on
attending my father's funeral, until his most loyal
employee, a woman named Rebecca Carr called me at home
to tell me about the inheritance. Rebecca had been with
my father since he moved to L.A., and though they were
intimate with each other early on she told me, passion
soon gave way to a deeper friendship and she helped his
business grow. It was upon her insistence that I chose
to attend.

My father's funeral was a bit of a scene in Hollywood,
as he had spent over 20 years there building a small
empire. Young and old, famous and fleeting celebrities
were in attendance. People guessed right away who I was,
as anyone who knew my father as well as knew me said I
was almost an exact image, albeit a little skinnier.

I was about 6'1 and weighed about 170 to 180 pounds. I
didn't work out religiously but I was in good shape. The
most striking feature I had been told was my eyes.
Apparently I had inherited from my father this icy cold
stare that burned through my dark blue eyes into people.
Combined with my dark brown hair, I had been told by
more than one ex-girlfriend that I could look very
menacing sometimes when I got even slightly angry.

Following the services, I met with the executor of my
father's estate, a Mr. Blake, as well as Ms. Carr to
discuss the future of the agency.

"Your father had quite a successful business here Mr.
Simonds," said Mr. Blake. "Over 30 employee's, a fine
stable of award winning actors, actresses and musicians,
as well as close to a hundred unknown's. Keeping
retainers with virtually all of them was a brilliant
move by your father, as the agency is now worth an
estimated $50 million dollars. Being his only heir, you
stand to inherit it, as well as his home and personal
finances."

I was shocked. I knew he had done fairly well (my mother
never said much about him and his success) but I had no
idea HOW well. Blake continued: "You can do what you
wish with the business Mr. Simonds, but before you act I
suggest you speak with Ms. Carr first before deciding
one way or the other," Blake said.

Ms. Carr finally spoke. She was a woman in her late 50s,
still in good shape for the most part. Her hair had gone
gray but not in a witchy sort of way. It seemed to fit
her perfectly, as though she had aged, you could tell
that she must have been very attractive in her younger
years. Her brownish-green eyes danced with this natural
exuberance and I couldn't help but think that she would
have made a good model.

"Dean, your father loved you despite his lack of showing
it. I know you didn't know him, nor do you know the
slightest thing about Hollywood or being an agent, but I
think that you probably have the natural charisma your
father had. You really should consider running his
business. That was your father's last wish, that you
help it grow," she said, smiling ever so slightly when
she finished. She came across as a good-natured
grandmother, which was probably the effect she was going
for. Her last part angered me a little, trying to play
the pity card.

"Look, I know that he wanted me to run things, but I
don't have the slightest clue. Even with you here to
help me, I would still be lost, not to mention be light
years behind in learning how to schmooze this town," I
said.

"I only wish I could stay to help you. Like your father,
I put my heart and soul into here but now I have to cash
out. There are too many memories, too much pain.
Besides, I'm an old woman. I want to enjoy my late
years," replied Rebecca.

"Well, that's just great. Now I have NO ONE to help me,
even if I DID decide to stay!" I said, throwing my hands
in the air in exasperation.

"No, no, no, that's not true. Ever since your father
became sick, I knew I would be retiring. I've been
training a replacement though, and I'm sure that she
will be able to help you just as well as I could," said
Rebecca.

We discussed and debated for over two hours, but in the
end (and much to my chagrin) I agreed to stay and try to
run the company for an interim period of six months,
just to see how things went. That would give me time to
tie up loose ends and sell clients to other agencies if
need be. I went home to my father's house that night,
laying in bed thinking about all that I had brought upon
myself. I concluded that I was at a good cross roads and
that because of the safety net of money left to me, I
could afford to take a risk like this. Hey, I thought as
I drifted off to sleep, maybe I'll get laid somewhere
along the way.

I went into work on Monday feeling optimistic about
things, as well as a little apprehensive. I went into my
father's office and sat down in his chair to try and
sort out files and such. I hadn't been sitting for 5
minutes when a knock came on the door.

"Come in," I said as I straightened up in my chair and
tried to look my most professional.

The door opened and in walked a beautiful young woman,
wearing a knee length maroon skirt and a white blouse.
Her hair was a rich black and her skin was of an olive
complexion. She had bright green eyes that were
perfectly positioned on her face. Her nose was small as
were her lips, which was a shade that matched the color
of her dress. Her chest wasn't enormous, but certainly
tested the limits of the fabric of her blouse. She
walked with a kind of step that exuded confidence in
herself, but also showed she couldn't be fucked with. I
liked her already.

"Hi. My name is Julie Carr and I'm here to help you sort
through those files on your desk," she said. She spoke
with an unmistakable California accent, one that showed
she had lived in California her whole life. My mind
immediately made the connection when she said her name.

"Carr? Are you related to Rebecca Carr who used to work
here?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yes. She is my mother. But like you, I never knew my
father. Mom has been training me to help you for two
months now and I think I will be able to help you figure
things out. You ARE Dean Simonds aren't you?" she smiled
at me.

"Yes, that's me. How did your mother know that I was
going to be running things two months ago? I just met
her two DAYS ago." I asked.

"I asked the same thing. All she said was that if she
knew your father at all, convincing you to stay would be
no sweat," she replied, sitting herself in one of the
two guest chairs of the office.

Her mother's assumption about me made me a little
ticked, and I guess it showed because Julie sort of got
this defensive look on her face that showed she knew I
was upset.

"Look, all that is over and done with. Your here for six
months, so let's try to make the most of it," she said,
extending her petite right hand out for me to shake.

I shook her hand and calmed down a little bit. Bygones
are bygones I thought. For the next three hours, we
poured over the files. I got to like Julie's personality
right away, but she seemed to exude this self-defense
sort of attitude that crushed any attempt at a sexual
maneuver. For lunch, Julie had one of the interns pick
us up some sandwiches from the delicatessen down the
street. After we finished eating, Julie stood to go.

"Well, we made some good progress today. Hopefully we
can get this far all the time," she said.

"Where are you going? It's only 1:30? Was my father THAT
lax in letting people leave?" I asked.

She laughed. "No, it's just you have a client coming in
at 2:00 and I thought you might want some time to clean
up the office. Oh yeah, and to get that piece of lettuce
out from your teeth," she said laughing good naturedly
as she walked out.

I walked over to the mirror and brushed my teeth, and
then proceeded to clean myself up. I had just finished
straitening up the files we had been going through when
there was a knock on the door.

"Dean, this is Rachael Leigh Cook. She's your two o'
clock," said Julie, opening the door and ushering in the
client. As soon as Rachael had walked in, Julie closed
the door behind her.

Rachael was wearing a dark green sweater and a black
silk dress. Combined, the outfit went a long way to
hiding the curves that she had to have underneath. Even
though I wasn't from Hollywood, I certainly knew who she
was. Even in person, she exuded this sort of shy
radiance...like a delicate flower who was afraid to
blossom. Her hair was pulled back behind her ears and
she looked almost elfish. Despite wearing 5-inch lift
shoes, she still barely would have come up to my chest.
I rose to greet her.

"Ahh, Ms. Cook. How are you? I'm Dean Simonds. Would you
care for something to drink?" I said.

"A glass of water if you don't mind. I'm sorry to hear
about your father. He was a terrific man. In fact,
that's sort of why I am here today." she said.

I walked over to the mini bar and poured her a glass of
water, fixing myself a scotch over ice.

"What do you mean?" I asked, handing her, her drink. She
did indeed only come up to my chest. Raising her head,
her deep, soulful brown eyes looked me in my eyes.

"Well, I was planning on coming over to your firm as
long ago as last year, but I finally got all the legal
paper work done with my ex agent. I had to reschedule my
appointment after your father's passing. But with you
running things now, I can still check to see if it is
true." she said, taking a sip of her water.

"See if what is true?" I asked a little puzzled.

Her eyes sparkled for a brief moment. Rachael laughed
lightly, a very feathery kind of laugh that helped with
her pixyish image. She again looked into my eyes, but
this time with a growing sense of lust.

"Your father was known as a great guy for his clients
it's true. But he was even more well known by his female
clients as being...well...endowed," she said, stepping
closer to me.

Her forwardness surprised me. Everything I had read
about her or seen her in, she always seemed very passive
and shy. But apparently sexually, she knew exactly what
she wanted.

"...And with you I can see if the old saying 'Like
father, like son' is correct," she said, placing her
hands on my belt.

My mind raced. Here I was on my first day of running a
business and I was already being seduced like a common
gigolo. Should I go with it or stop this now and keep
from building a reputation?

My question was answered when I felt the belt come off
and my pants fall to the floor. Rachael stood on her
tiptoes and leaned into me, forcing me back against the
mini-bar. Her mouth met mine and her tongue slid into my
mouth like a stealth snake. I responded in kind by
meeting her tongue halfway. I lifted her up off of me
and carried her over to the couch against the far wall
of my office. I lay atop her, holding myself up with my
arms. We kissed each other passionately and I slowly
slid my hand up her side to her just big enough breasts
and began to play with her right breast through the
material of her sweater.

I could feel her moan into my mouth, an obvious sign she
was enjoying it. Our kiss finally broke, and she sat up.
Reaching down, she lifted her sweater over her head,
revealing a pair of grapefruit sized breasts straining
and heaving against a black pushup bra. She reached
around her back and unclasped the bra, flinging it
aside. Her breasts were bigger than I had guessed, with
dark brown, quarter sized nipples in the center of each.

I stuck my hands out and squeezed them gently, massaging
them around in my hands. Rachael groaned softly,
throwing her head back in pleasure. Her dark brown,
shoulder length hair fell upon her bare shoulders as she
looked at me again with those eyes. I gazed upon her
face, relishing her simple yet elegant face.

Rachael began unbuttoning my shirt one button at a time,
very methodically. I lifted myself up with my elbows and
she slid the shirt off of me. As I said earlier, I try
to stay in shape, focusing mainly on getting some tone
in my arms and having a flat stomach. At this point, I
was now left in only my boxers, something Rachael
quickly set to remove. Using the same gentleness she had
used before on my shirt and pants, she slowly slid my
boxers off over my cock, allowing it to spring up and
then land with a very audible thump on my stomach.
Somewhere in the back of my mind I wondered if anyone
heard us.

Rachael licked her lips and slowly began jacking my cock
with her right hand, as I continued to play with her
tits. God they were soft and felt so great.

"I guess all my girlfriends were right, having a big
cock DOES run in the family," she said with a devilish
smile.

I guess I'm modest, because I never have measured how
big I am. Previous girlfriends had said I was big, but
again I didn't know.

"God, you must be at least 9 inches long!" Rachael
gasped, inadvertently answering my question. "And you're
as thick as my wrist! I've got to feel this beast in me
before I let you go," she said, smiling.

"But first, a little snack"

Lowering her head down so that her hair fell in front of
her face, her lips touched the head of my very erect
prick very lightly. Snaking her tongue out, I felt her
twist it around in my pisshole. Pulling her mouth off
for just a split second, the cool air hitting where her
warm lips had been was a thrill. But it was short lived,
as in one swift move attempted to deep throat me. She
got about half of my cock down her throat before it hit
the back of her throat. She lifted her mouth off again
and began licking me up and down, starting from the head
and going all the way down to my balls, sucking on each
one in that gentle manner she had been using.

By this time, I was really enjoying myself, but things
had to pick up. I placed my hand atop her head and
forced her back down on my cock. Grabbing a handful of
her hair, I pulled her mouth up and down my cock. She
got the idea very quick and began bobbing up and down
rapidly. I laid my head back on the arm of the couch and
relaxed, letting out a sigh. She continued like this for
what must have been 10 minutes, rotating between licking
my cock slowly and bobbing up and down fast. Finally I
said in a husky voice "I'm about to come."

Pulling her head off completely, she grabbed my cock
with her hand and stood me up. With me standing and my
cock still in her hand, she got to her knees and began
jerking me rapidly. I grunted loudly as my cock
exploded, spraying her chin and lips and even landing a
dollop or two in her hair. With my cum dripping off of
her chin and onto her cute little breasts, she proceeded
to lick my cock of any cum and wiped the cum from her
lips, only to rub it into her chest and onto her tits.
Out of breath, I sat back down on the couch.

Rachael stood up before me and wriggled slinkily out of
her dress, letting it fall to the floor. To my surprise,
she wasn't wearing any panties. Her snatch was a lighter
brown than her hair, but was still a close match.

She was shaved in a bikini line but nowhere else, which
left a wispy "V" shape over her mound. Her pussy hair
wasn't very thick and I could see that her cunt was
fully aroused, her dark brown outer lips glistening from
her female wetness.

She lowered her legs over my still erect cock and slowly
let it push into her. My god she was tight, but not a
virgin, which really didn't surprise me.

Finally I felt her settle on top of me, my cock buried
to the hilt in her warm pussy. Rachael sighed a moan of
pure satisfaction and then lay her head on my shoulder.
Using the couch as a lift, she proceeded to slowly move
herself up and down my cock. I could feel her pussy
craving more as it tried to grip me every time she slid
on and off of my cock. Wanting to match her pace because
I knew I wouldn't last long inside her (I hadn't had sex
in a while).

I began thrusting my hips up every time she would pull
off, making sure that no matter how high up she lifted
herself, the tip of my prick was still in her. I reached
down to her beautiful snatch and began stroking her clit
furiously at a much faster pace than what we were going
at. The combined sensation was too much for her, as she
cried out in orgasm and I felt her juices spill onto my
hand and legs. Feeling myself on the brink, I warned her
that I was about to come. Lifting her head off my
shoulder and still struggling to catch her breath after
her orgasm.

"Cum...in my...ass," she gasped.

I had never had a girl ask to be fucked up the ass, but
hey, this was L.A. I pulled out of her and tried to
lubricate my cock with her juice and my precum. Rachael
had already leaned over the couch arm and was thrusting
her ass up in the air.

Walking up behind her, I bent down to lick her asshole
just to soften things up a little. Placing my cock at
her tight little hole, I gently pressed my head into
her. I could hear her grimace at first and bite down on
her lower lip until I got the head past, and then she
sort of sighed in relief. I worked the shaft into her
and before I even realized, I had all but a few inches
in her. Because I was the one setting the tempo and
since I knew I was close to orgasm, I built up a
quickening pace of thrusts into her ass, pushing harder
every time. Rachael gasped and moaned, loving every
minute of it.

I reached my hand down and began playing with her clit
again; shoving three fingers in and out of her tight,
wet pussy. I felt that familiar sensation in my balls
again, and thrust into her hard one last time, shooting
my hot load right up her ass. She must have felt it in
her because she cried out in a loud pleasure scream that
I knew SOMEONE must have heard.

We were both out of breath, and when I felt my dick
softening, I pulled out of her. We lay on the couch for
a few minutes, kissing and touching each other, until
Rachael said she had to go.

We both got dressed and I walked her to the door.

"I have total confidence in your skills Mr. Simonds. I
hope you will accept me as a client," Rachael said,
kissing me on the cheek.

"Well, after that convincing argument, I would be a fool
not to," I replied, smiling.

I watched her go and then shut the door to my office.
Sitting back in my chair with my hands behind my head, I
breathed a sigh of relief.

"I think things will go just fine out here," I said to
myself.
1 comments

READERReport

2006-03-11 12:47:20
FElt like gggoooooooooodddddddddd sssseeeeeexxxxx!!!!!!!
;-)... Excellent excitement my man. ugotta 10

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