jen9

I did not want to get out of bed the morning after the Oscars disaster. Well, it was only a disaster for me, and really, I don't know why I let it get to me so much, maybe I'd thought somehow, despite everything I knew about what could and probably would happen, somehow, I would still win. Even I can be naive beyond belief sometimes.

We went to the Governors' Ball immediately after that, which was like slow torture. I couldn't eat more than a bite or two, despite the fact that I'd been ravenous just an hour before, hunting for something - anything! - to eat out in the reception area during a break. Dani had crackers in her little evening bag, so she gave them to me, thank God. My stomach was churning by then, seeing how certain things were going. By midway through the Ball, I wanted to just sink through the floor. See, it was the malice directed towards me that was getting to me.

You'd think after their faction won that the ringleaders - that's what they are and that's what I'll call them - would have been content for their man to have the trophy and the glory. But they weren't. There was a lot of parading by our table, ostensibly to congratulate Ron, Brian, Akiva and Jennifer. Most of the people were sincere, and either left me alone or said something kind. But the faction that had engineered the final results with their whispering and their behind-the-scenes machinations sent some looks in my direction that were anything but charitable. I've never understood the emotion that drives people to be ungracious winners. I can understand sore losers, hell, I've been one now and then myself. But to gloat, to sneer, to ooze malice in my face, all the while supposedly congratulating someone else, that really got to me. Were they not adults? Apparently I gave them too much credit - they were juvenile and mean, and I had enough after an hour.

I lied to Dani and told her I was going for a smoke, fully intending to just go back to the hotel. She and I had had a serious argument - another in a long string of arguments that seemed to comprise our life lately , and she probably didn't care where I went. I didn't look at Mark, which of course, probably clued him in to what I was up to, but I bloody didn't give a fuck by then. My head was pounding, and I felt like the walls were closing in. I wanted out. So I left.

I got down this long corridor and into one of the stairwells to the parking garage before I remembered that the relies and a bunch of other people would be at the hotel waiting. No doubt they'd be somewhat subdued, but I knew they'd still be partying and that was the last thing I wanted right then. While I was standing smoking, the door behind me flew open and someone barreled into me. I grabbed hold to keep us both from tumbling down the cement steps, only to find that it was Jen. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Looking for you," she answered me right back. "I was worried."

"Oh - well, ya didn't need to be, I'm fine." I stubbed out what was left of my ciggie and stuffed my hands in my pockets. "Go on back in to the party, luv - you need to bask in your win - they don't come that often."

"I had enough basking," she said, taking a step closer. Her hand went onto my shoulder and she gave me a look from those big gray-blue Bambi eyes of hers. "You're not all right," she said flatly.

I uttered a short laugh, shaking my head. "No fuckin' kidding."

"Come here then, Stubborn," she said, "let me baby you a little bit." And she put her arms around me and just held onto me for a long time. It was very sweet of her, and it did help a bit.

After awhile I sat down on the step, Jen sat down next to me and leaned against me until I draped an arm around her and she slid her arm around my waist. "I like your new tux, by the way."

"Thanks. I think it looks like the one from last year and my old regular one had a baby, don't you?" She allowed as how it did and we laughed for a bit about that and some of the other outfits people had worn that night. "I kinda missed the sheila in the swan dress this year," I claimed. She dug an elbow into my ribs and we laughed some more. Laughing does help, even if only for a little while. She kept looking at my lap and finally put her hand on my leg, so I picked her up and set her across my thighs. "That what you wanted, luv?"

She leaned against me. Her dress was all silky and ruffly, although I didn't care for the color, preferring her in more vivid colors like red, or in her usual black. I didn't tell her that though - why hurt her feelings? I rubbed her back, noticing how small she was. I felt like a big clumsy ox all of a sudden.

"Jen, you're too thin, darlin' - I miss your curves." I hated the stick women that populate Hollywood. Granted, although I've usually fallen for petite blondes myself, most of them haven't been bony and all of them had at least a little bosom. During our shoot, Jen had been almost voluptuous, now she was at least ten to fifteen pounds lighter. I didn't like the implication. "Did someone tell you to lose weight, sweetheart?"

She claimed they hadn't, but I know how these studio types work - most of them hate women in the first place, or only like the tall bony ones that stalk down fashion runways - and I knew damned well that somebody had told her to diet. "Jen, tell them to go fuck themselves - this isn't healthy." I cuddled her close and hoped she wouldn't haul off and slug me for my opinion. She just sighed, shook her head and kissed me. Trust her to know how to distract me.

We sat canoodling for awhile, but I realized we couldn't stay where we were because sooner or later somebody was bound to use the stairs to get to the parking garage. I didn't want to go to my hotel, and she didn't want to go back into the Ball, so when she offered to take me back to her place, I jumped at the invitation. She called a cab with her little tiny cell phone while I called Mark to tell him where I was going. He wanted to argue, told me Danielle was worried, when I knew damn well she wasn't. I finally told him to just take her fuckin' back to the hotel and I'd see him in the morning. I'm afraid he wasn't happy with me, but I wasn't happy with me then either. Jen and I sneaked outside, into a cab, and went to her place.

Her place is so peaceful. She has beautiful art and photographs on the walls, great plants, a fish tank that her boy just loves, and which I always found fascinating to watch, and comfortable furniture that you're not afraid to sit on. I hate those show places where you dare not sit down for fear of wrinkling the upholstery or breaking the spindly legged chairs. Those are just not my style. I like homey stuff like my mum has, and like I put in my own places in Oz. At that moment, I missed home so much I wanted to weep. "Sit down," Jen said, and went to put on hot water for tea. She knows me pretty well.

While the water was heating, she went into her bedroom, and when she came back out, she'd taken her hair down and it was a kind of inky cloud down to her shoulders. A study in ivory and black, is Jen, with those silver blue eyes for accents. Ridiculously, I started getting hard looking at her. "Shit," I muttered under my breath, willing it to go away. I did wish I'd left off the underpants, though - they were killin' me. She brought two mugs of tea over and sat down next to me.

"Did I hear a complaint?" she wanted to know, sipping the steaming liquid.

I just shifted a bit and shook my head, "Nah, nothing important." Damn thing was still stiff. Sometimes I've wondered what it would be like to be a eunuch or to be small. Did guys with undersized dicks have the too tight underwear problem? Somehow I doubted it. If I just reached down and gave the tuxedo trousers a yank, Jen would know right away what my problem was. I could always use the "just adjusting my bits" excuse, but she seemed inordinately fond of my bits, and I knew she'd have to either tease or help. I wasn't sure right then if I wanted either. I gave her my best innocent grin. "Good tea."

She gave me the fisheye, then looked pointedly down at my lap. "Oh. That's an unexpected reaction."

"No kidding."

She laughed her throaty laugh that always went straight to my crotch, which only added to my problem, but, being the generous girl that she is, she just stood up, took my hand, and led me into the bedroom. "Sit," she said, and pushed me down onto her bed. She knelt in front of me - one of my favorite postures for her! - and helped me off with my shoes and socks before leaning her elbows on my thighs and grinning up at me. "How do you want it, big boy?"

"Anyway you want it, baby." I took her right hand and put it right on my cock, closing her fingers around it through the cloth of my trousers. "I need it bad, Jen."

She purred at me, gave me a good rub or two, and then undid the zipper to get a better grip on me. She gave me head for a few minutes, but that always makes me so crazy that I come way too fast, so since she wanted more than a face full of cum, she climbed up me instead, dragged my jacket off me, then my waistcoat and tie. "Too many clothes," she muttered, and gave my shirt a yank so that the onyx and diamond studs went flyin' every which way. "We'll get those later," she said, seeing my alarmed look. She laughed then, "Are they real, honey? I didn't know."

"Yeah, they're real," I managed, but she had shoved me down onto my back by then so she could get my pants off.

She pulled them down and off, grinning when she saw the underwear problem. "Honey, there's no way you could stuff all that in those little bitty briefs."

"Did so," I told her. "Didn't plan on getting all hot and bothered - I figured it was gonna be a non-sexual kind of night."

"Well," she said, laughing softly as she got them off me, "I don't think these are your size in any case." She threw them on the floor and took off her dress. "There - now - come here, you." And she pounced on me.

I had time to take a deep breath before she started kissing and biting me, but she was all over me so fast that was about all I did have time for. She took over totally, pinning my wrists to the mattress and riding me. She was hot as a firecracker inside and when she slid onto my dick I know I groaned really loudly. She rode me with her head thrown back so that her hair tickled the tops of my thighs, her pretty tits pointing straight up, the nipples like little fingertips. I reached up and put my hands over her breasts and squeezed, making her quiver. It tightened her cunt on my cock til I wanted to scream, but it was so sexy I just kept pumping up into her.

It was a long fuck, given that I'd been so ready to explode when we started, but when I finally did, I yelled so loud I'm sure the neighbors had to have heard me. She came right after I shot my load into her, collapsing down onto me for a few minutes before rolling off me. "God, that was incredible!" she said.

"Another testimonial from a satisfied lady," I claimed. "Yikes, not yet, woman!" She had hold of me, stroking my cock up and down like she wanted to get me ready for another go. "Really, Jen - I'm not sure I'm ready." Another mood swing or emotional rollercoaster ride was taking over and I just really wanted to sleep. She looked into my eyes and let go of me. "Thanks, luv."

Instead of fucking me, she lay down next to me, pulled me over to face her and spent a long time kissing and cuddling. I love that sort of thing, but this time it made me sad, and although she didn't intend for it to, it brought back why we were where we were and not at some huge party. I couldn't get it out of my mind how close I had come to ruining everyone's chances for their wins. I really did think it was my fault - or a good part of it - that the backlash campaign and the other shit that happened would never have taken root if I hadn't given them all fodder for their cannons. Her petting me finally got to me and then it all just welled up and overflowed. I believe it's called an emotional catharsis. Or you could just say I cried all over her. Either way, she was so comforting and so sweet - she just let me get it all out, stroking my back and my hair, and finally just letting me sleep. She didn't have to, she could have just told me to take my frustration and my anger and my tears elsewhere, but she didn't. She's way too generous for that.

By morning,I was still exhausted despite a couple of hours sleep. I knew Jen had to be on the set for her film before eight, so I got up at six, got dressed, woke her and thanked her. "It helped, luv - thanks so much."

She smiled and played with my fingers, her hair in a black tangle on the pillow. "Russell, promise me you'll apologize to Danielle for leaving her last night."

"What? Why should I?" Even I can be insensitive some times.

She gave me this look of extreme patience. "You left her sit at a huge party, Russell, how do you think she felt about that?"

"I don't fuckin' care," I lied. I felt guilty now. I sighed and agreed that I would after she just gave me that look for a few minutes. "Okay, okay - I said I would!" I got up and paced back and forth. "Jen - come with me when your picture is done - come to Oz with me."

I was so mad when I saw that she was going to refuse. I just held up my hand, "Never mind - I know you're not ready for that - I lost my head there for a bit. I'll call ya tonight, luvvy - have a great day on the set today- everyone will envy the dickens out of ya." I stood up, kissed her goodbye, and got a cab back to the Bel Air.

Danielle, as predicted, was furious. When she demanded to know where I'd been, I told her. Furthermore, I said, "I'm in love with her." I'd never admitted that to Dani. Now I did, and she hauled off and gave me a wallop, connecting with my jaw so hard I saw stars. Her ring cut me on the jaw under the beardline, and she slammed the door to the bedroom so hard a picture fell off the wall.

When she came back out, I told her, "Danielle, you need to go home today." I held a folded handkerchief to the cut on my face.

"You need your head examined," she flung back, but she went and started packing.

She flew back on my jet. I decided I would hitch a ride with some other Aussies - Nicole Kidman and Baz Lurhman and that group - a day or so later. Baz had invited and I went in to the other room to call Nic to accept. Of course she wanted to know the gory details, but right then the only gory one was my face. I just told her she wouldn't believe it, and that I'd talk to her later, I was too fuckin' sick of everything to want to go into it. Bless her, she understood - probably better than I even gave her credit for. Once Dani was gone, I crashed the rest of the day. I couldn't wait to go home. I wanted to just bury myself at the farm for a couple of months, which was exactly my plan.

What's that line I wrote? Things don't always go quite the way we plan them?

Click the center button for part ten