Days Off Pt. 12

As I wake up, the first thing that hits me is the pounding headache. Did I really drink that much? I can't recall consuming so much, but the throbbing in my head tells a different story. Shifting slightly, I notice a dull ache in my asshole, a sign that we must have done anal last night. The last thing I remember is being fucked in missionary, so it must have happened afterward. There's a twinge of disappointment that I can't remember the rest of our sexual escapades, but then something else catches my attention.

I find myself dressed as a seductive princess. I'm wearing a tight, short pink princess dress that clings to my hips. When did this happen? I remember being in my bra and panties, and I spot them at the foot of the bed, evidence that my memories of the previous night aren't entirely lost.

"Good morning, sunshine," I hear Kyle's gentle voice as he wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me back into a spooning position. I hadn't even noticed him waking up.

"Good morning, babe. Seems like we had quite the wild night. I can't even recall half of it," I say, trying to piece things together.

"Really? You must be a lightweight. I remember every single moment, and I doubt I'll ever forget it," he replies, drawing me closer.

"Can you fill me in on how I ended up looking like...a sexy princess?" I ask playfully, a smirk forming on my lips.

"That was round two, actually. You insisted on trying something from the lingerie collection, and somehow you settled on this, saying you wanted to be fucked by your Prince Charming or something," he says, chuckling at the absurdity. My face flushes crimson at the thought of uttering such words.

"Oh god, I can't remember a thing about that second round. Was it fun when I was so drunk?" I inquire with a giggle.

"What do you think the boner poking your back suggests?" he retorts, planting a kiss on my neck.

I can already feel his erection pressing against me, but then he slides his boxers down and positions himself between my legs. My hangover clouds my judgment, making it hard to decide if I'm up for another round of sex right now.

"May I? In your juicy pussy or your tight little asshole, princess?" he asks urgently.

It's a bit disappointing not remembering the anal from last night's second round, but the dull ache makes me contemplate it. However, I have a mischievous idea to spice things up.

"Ever tried a thighjob, my prince?" I suggest, gently stroking his cock with my hand.

"Now, that's an interesting option, mi amor. But let's strike a deal. Where can I cum?" he asks, his hands finding their place on my breasts.

"All over my face? Or perhaps deep inside?" I offer with a seductive tone.

"Let that gorgeous face be my canvas, madame," he replies, sliding his cock between my thighs, teasingly close to my pussy. I press my legs together, giving him a tight space to thrust into.

As he picks up the pace, I feel the familiar sensation of his body colliding with my ass, sending ripples and shockwaves through my cheeks with each clap. Despite no penetration or direct stimulation, it feels surprisingly good. Just the feeling of my ass being smacked like this is arousing and satisfying, almost like being teased.

Kyle increases his tempo, thrusting with a rhythmic intensity while his hands squeeze and fondle my breasts, providing much-needed stimulation. The experience is different but still enjoyable, judging by Kyle's moans and grunts—he's clearly reveling in it too.

Without me having to do anything but surrender, time slips away rapidly. Before long, he stops thrusting and urges me to get on my knees in front of him. I comply eagerly, looking up at him with batting eyelashes and my tongue out as he strokes his cock across my face.

With a final grunt, Kyle's cock releases a hot, sticky load all over my face. Ropes of his cum cover my eyes, cheeks, lips, and nose. I giggle as I struggle to open my left eye, coated in the thick load, before using my fingers to clear it away. I gather all the cum into my mouth and show him my mouthful before swallowing it down, offering him proof of completion.

Kyle extends his hand and helps me to my feet, wrapping his arm around my waist and placing a tender kiss on my forehead. It's a heartwarming moment, and I can't help but smile.

Maybe, just maybe, Kyle is the one who brings out the best Jazmine in me. Or the best me entirely.

After getting ready and going through our usual morning routine, I find myself sitting at the table with Kyle, enjoying a much better breakfast than the previous day. Today, his chef came over and prepared a delicious meal, which I can't help but admit was better than yesterday. I decided to wear a stunning white dress for the day, and it made me feel confident and sexy.

"So, I heard from some of the production guys that the pre-screening is coming up. The release date is not too far away, so they don't want to fall behind," Kyle shares.

"Oh, that's great! I can't wait to see our hard work pay off," I reply with an excited smile.

"Yeah, exactly. Expect the press tour to start in a few weeks. If the reaction to the trailer is good, they might even kick it off earlier," he explains.

"Oh, I didn't realize that's how it worked, but it makes sense. More demand means more supply," I comment.

"Once that starts, things are going to get pretty busy. Hey, there's a party tonight at one of my friend's place. It's not some huge, fancy event—just a casual get-together. Do you want to come with me? I'll drop you home right after it's done," he suggests, his voice filled with hope.

"Well, I'm not sure. I've never been to a party like that before," I respond, my voice trailing off as I consider what I truly mean. I've never been to a party as Jazmine yet. Ever.

"It'll be fun, I promise! There will be a lot of great people there, including some famous folks you've probably never even dreamed of meeting," he says, his eagerness to bring me along evident.

"Okay, sure. Let's give it a shot and see how it goes," I agree, a subtle smile playing on my lips.

"Yes! It's going to be awesome, I promise. But I do have one favor to ask," he says, sounding a little hesitant.

"Oh, come on, spill it out. I don't like it when you hesitate like that!" I say, chuckling.

"Well, you're a brunette, and those highlights in your hair make it look even better. But, I think you would look stunning as a blonde," he suggests.

Blonde? Hm. I've never been particularly attached to my hair, so the idea settles with me more easily than Kyle might have anticipated. Besides, my wonderful boyfriend wants it, so why not?

"I mean, sure! I don't see anything wrong with it, and if it's what you want, Kyle, then I'm all for it," I say, and a giddy smile spreads across Kyle's face as soon as I agree.

"Holy shit, yes! Okay, we're heading to the salon right fucking now. Come on, let's go!" he exclaims, pulling me up from my seat and leaving my half-eaten breakfast behind.

Just like that, I became a blonde. My hair was beautifully conditioned and styled, now sporting a lovely light blonde shade. It felt a bit strange at first, but in a refreshing way. Kyle's reaction to my new look is hard to read.

"Do you...like it?" I ask, a touch of hesitation in my voice.

"I fucking love it, Jaz. You look incredible," he replies, his face clearly in awe of my transformed appearance.

We leave the salon and head back to Kyle's place, grabbing some quick fast-food on the way. We sit parked in the Wendy's parking lot, enjoying our sandwiches. Clea would kill me if she knew I was indulging in this, which oddly makes it taste even better.

As some mayonnaise drips out of the back of my sandwich and onto the box, it reminds me of cum, momentarily catching me off guard. Thankfully, Kyle isn't wearing that enticing cologne of his; otherwise, I'm certain I would be jumping onto him within seconds. That reminds me, I need to ask Clea about it and figure out why it has such an effect on me.

Later in the day, we start getting ready for the big party. My nerves have settled enough to make me feel comfortable about attending, though the uncertainty of who or what awaits me is slightly worrisome. Kyle hasn't even mentioned whose party it is. Nevertheless, I've already decided that I'm going to this party with Kyle.

I search through my wardrobe, looking for the perfect party outfit. There are some flashy options, some overly colorful ones, and others that don't quite match the occasion. After receiving a bit of feedback from Kyle, I settle on a navy figure-hugging dress with a low neckline to complement Kyle's navy blazer.

Once that's settled, I start applying my makeup from scratch to match our chosen outfits. As usual, it comes effortlessly to me, and before long, I'm done. We take a couple of pictures together, mostly mirror selfies, before posting them on our social media. Personally, I wasn't keen on posting them, but Kyle insists because they look amazing and the fans will love it.

And then, we're off to this party about which I know nothing.

We arrive at a rather large house, one clearly for that of someone who's made their name in the industry. We walk up the steps to the front door, as muffled music blares through the walls mixed with the sounds of distant chatter. With my arm locked in with Kyle, I turn to him and feel reassured as we walk through the doors.

There's plenty of people here, much more than Kyle was implying. This party was a lot bigger than he was told, or bigger than he was telling me. We slow down and look around, noticing the plethora of people in our vicinity. I noticed some actors and directors, but nobody that was too famous for this party. Otherwise, there wouldn't have been some of the porn stars that you felt embarrassed to recognize.

With the presence of the porn stars, you got the idea that this wasn't some posh party for the elite. This was a party for those with big dreams and aspirations who also wanted to have a good time in Tinseltown.

Kyle leads me to the bar, much definitely to get us in the mood for the night ahead. We both get some whiskey on ice and take a few sips as we watch others engage in conversation. We're soon interrupted by a the excited tone of someone I didn't recognize.

"Hey! Glad you could make it man!" Says the man, who I assume is the host of this lavish party.

"Of course, Mike. I gave you my word after all" Kyle says as they engage in some routine handshake of theirs. I didn't recognize Mike, which made me wonder how he could afford such a large property in the first place.

"Jazmine. Jade. Wow. You're just as stunning in person as you are in all the photo shoots. I'm Mike, Kyle's ol' pal from way back." He says, extending his hand for a handshake.

"Oh, thank you very much, Mike. You've got a very nice place." I say, shaking his hand.

Almost as if he ignored my comment completely, he takes Kyle away from me and walks away in conversation. I find myself alone, sipping my whisky, and wishing I had more friends in the industry.

I sit on the stool and watch on as people come by and get a drink, before leaving in conversation, the same way Kyle did. Some come by and recognize me next to them, giving me the same awestruck hello that Mike gave me. One or two of the porn stars do the same, and my face flushes red each time, embarrassed and flustered by the interaction.

Then, as I find myself lost in thought, somebody gives me a nudge on my arm. I turn to look, and see a rather stunning woman. She's wearing a black dress and a matching black choker, and she's got dark purple lipstick to match her exuberant purple hair and smoky eyeshadow.

"Hey, you've been standing here all by yourself for a while," a sultry and deep voice interrupts my thoughts.

"Um, yeah. Don't really know many people here," I reply, intrigued by the voice.

"Pretty much everyone knows you here, though you can't say the same about them. Funny how that works, huh?" she says, her tone smooth.

"Yeah, I guess I need to start going out more," I comment, thinking about how rarely I leave my home now, especially since filming wrapped up.

"Hi, I'm Valentina Sin, and you're Jazmine Jade, I know. Just so you're clear, I'm a femboy," she says, catching me off guard.

"A...femboy? What exactly does that mean?" I ask, trying not to sound rude.

"It's basically a guy who embraces feminine looks and behavior. Oh, and I'm bisexual, so that's a little extra flair," she says casually, taking a sip of her drink.

"I see. Nice to meet you, Valentina. What do you do for a living? Since you're here at the party, I assume it's something related to the film industry?" I ask.

"Nope. I'm just the pampered child of some wealthy Hollywood parents who are too busy to care or be disappointed about their femboy son," she says, matter-of-factly.

I take a sip of my drink, and my eyes catch Valentina downing her drink and promptly ordering another. She looks younger, perhaps around my age. She's objectively attractive, and there's something distinct about her vibe.

"Let's get to know each other better. I already know some basic stuff about you, being the hottest thing in Hollywood even without a movie yet. But, I'm curious to know more about...you, not Jazmine Jade," she says, gently pointing her finger at my chest.

"Damn, you've got some nice natural assets," she remarks, her lips curling into a playful grin.

"Uh...yeah, sure. What do you want to know?" I say, a little flustered by the finger poking my breast.

"Let's start with your favorite movie. Mine is The Proposal, because, well, Ryan Reynolds," she says, a slight smile playing on her lips.

I ponder for a moment. What is my favorite movie? While I adore some Disney classics, I also have a soft spot for psychological thrillers.

"Hmm, I'd have to say Forrest Gump is my favorite. There's something about its message," I say, taking another sip of my drink.

"Seriously? Well, that was a bit of a snooze, but I won't blame you."

As the night progresses, the two of us continue exchanging questions. The drinks flow freely, but I know when to put the brakes on. I find out Valentina's favorite artist is The 1975, she's an only child, she doesn't work and is enjoying life on her parents' money, she's a fan of the big city atmosphere, she smoked her first cigarette at 12, she's single but not a virgin, and much more.

Checking my watch, I realize almost an hour has passed while talking to Valentina. Kyle finally returns, finding me still at the same spot where he left me. He plants a gentle kiss on my lips before I introduce him to Valentina.

"Kyle, this is my new friend Valentina. Valentina, this is Kyle, my boyfriend," you say with a warm smile.

With Kyle's arm snug around your waist, I feel at ease. In this moment, as Valentina and Kyle get acquainted, I reflect on myself. I'm comforted knowing I'm embraced by someone who loves me, and whom I also love. Everything just feels right. Sure, Kyle might have an insatiable sex drive, but I can handle it. He's good at it, so what's the issue? I've accepted my bisexuality and there's no going back now. I've also noticed how much he takes care of me, how he wants me to be comfortable. I appreciate his endearing hesitance when he doesn't want to disappoint me or the way he always looks out for me. I'm glad I'm with Kyle; he's one of three people I can truly say I love.

"Hellooooooo? Jazmine?" Valentina's voice snaps me back to the present as she playfully snaps her fingers in front of my face.

"Yeah, sorry. Zoned out for a moment," I admit, returning to reality.

"I'm going to take Jazmine to meet some of my pals, and I'll make sure she finds her way back to you, Valentina," Kyle states, ready to walk away from the bar with a drink in hand.

"Oh, what a charming gentleman. I almost wish I was the one dicked down by you instead of Jazmine!" Valentina jests, brushing her hand on Kyle's arm, teasing him. I know she's not being malicious; it's just her way of talking.

"Oh, trust me, I'm very appreciative, Valentina," I respond, matching her playful tone.

Kyle keeps his arm wrapped around my back, pulling me closer by the waist as we walk together to the other side of the house. He takes me up the stairs, which is where you assume some of his friends are drinking or something, definitely something a little more private. I'm surprised when he quickly looks around to check if anyone is looking, before pulling me into a bathroom and shutting the door.

"You look unbelievably hot, baby. I couldn't resist you," he declares before sealing his words with a deep kiss. I wrap your arms around his neck, meeting his passion with your lips.

My lips engage in a fiery dance with Kyle's, almost practiced at this point, yet still intensely erotic. His hands explore my body, and oh boy, that makes me kiss him even more passionately. I use one hand to caress Kyle's crotch as we kiss, feeling the undeniable bulge growing beneath my touch, a mischievous grin spreading across my face.

As much as I'm ****, I pull away from the kiss, knowing that there are more tantalizing things to attend to, like Kyle's rock-hard cock. I deftly undo his belt, then tackle the buttons, and unzip before sliding down his bottoms to expose his throbbing member, right before my eyes, aching for my mouth to engulf it.

But then I catch a scent, a familiar one. Did Kyle spray that intoxicating perfume on his crotch, anticipating that I would get a whiff of it as we engaged in tonight's passionate encounter? I can't be sure, as all of a sudden, all I can think about is his cock. Yes, I wanted it prior to catching that scent, but now, I crave it. I crave to have it plunged into my throat, stretching me, **** me, making it hard to even breathe.

Without a shred of hesitation, I wrap my lips around the tip of his erection, letting the aroma of that alluring perfume guide my actions. It's not foreign to me, but the intensity with which I'm about to pleasure him is nothing short of astonishing. With my lips tightly sealed around his shaft, I suck inward, aiming to lavish him with pleasure. What's more, I'm working my way down to the back of my throat, aiming to overcome that initial resistance and deepthroat him entirely.

When did I become such a cock enthusiast? Why am I thinking so explicitly about my body and sex? Accepting my bisexuality made things easier, but never before have I felt such an overpowering desire for a cock. No, it's more than that. I need this cock.

Such thoughts whirl through my mind as I manage to get his erection past the initial barrier and into my throat. I gradually push deeper, my mouth producing involuntary gagging sounds as I gradually reach the base of his shaft. Tears well up in my eyes, but I manage to control the gag reflex, preventing myself from crying. With every gag, every throb, every moment that his cock was **** me, I kept hoping that it would continue. Hoping that I wouldn't surrender and have to pull away. Hoping that Kyle is enjoying my hot tight throat while I **** and gag for him.

Damn, why does this feel so incredible? I'm ****, yet I...like it? Why do I want to deepthroat him so desperately?

My thoughts are interrupted by Kyle's hands gripping my head firmly, anchoring me in place and urging me to continue deepthroating him. I must've been holding him down deep for quite some time, because I suddenly realize the dull ache in my chest from holding my breath. Thankfully, I've held him down long enough to bring him to the edge.

Kyle instinctively thrusts into my throat, grunting as he releases his load into my throat. The sensation of his cum's warmth is slightly subdued, mainly masked by his thrusting. Nonetheless, I can feel it, albeit subtly. He soon withdraws, his erection glistening with a mix of saliva and cum, strings connecting his cock to my mouth. I glance up at him, encountering his satisfied smile, one that I can't help but mirror. I flutter my eyelashes, attempting to dispel the excess moisture in my eyes as I look at him. Then, I shift my focus back to his cock, enveloping it one last time to clean it meticulously.

I rise from my knees, adjusting my dress. Our eyes lock as Kyle finishes re-attiring himself, and a warm smile spreads across both our faces, a silent acknowledgment of our intimate communion. I spare a brief glance at the mirror before Kyle leads me back out into the party. What have I become? A cock enthusiast? Nevertheless, I can't deny the authenticity of my feelings, but where did they come from? Who knows, and frankly, who cares?

We make our way back to the bar, my heart swelling at the sight of Valentina still there, savoring her cocktail.

"I'll leave you two to it. See you in a bit, babe," Kyle says, pressing a gentle kiss on my forehead before sauntering away into the crowd.

I settle onto the barstool I occupied earlier and order a drink from the bartender. Valentina notices my return and takes a casual sip from her glass.

"So, how was it?" she inquires.

"How was...what?" I counter, slightly perplexed.

"The sex. How was it?" she presses, her tone candid. It's almost unbelievable that she could figure it out, but I figure it's better to be upfront with my new friend than to fabricate a lie.

"Good... actually, really good. But hey, how did you know?" I ask, genuinely curious.

"Well, your eyeshadow and mascara aren't as pristine as they were earlier, so you probably gave him a blowjob at the very least," she states matter-of-factly.

"Wow, that's rather impressive," I remark, raising my glass and taking a sip of my fresh drink.

"That's one way I could tell. The other way is the cum stain on your cheek," she adds.

The declaration catches me off guard. I swiftly retrieve my phone and use its front camera as a mirror. Sure enough, there it is—a small smudge of cum or saliva drying on my cheek. Embarrassment floods me, and I can't help but wonder how many people have noticed the residue on my cheek by now.

I promptly grab a napkin and wipe it off, casting an embarrassed glance at Valentina. Our eyes meet, and we burst into laughter at the absurd realization. We clink our glasses together and down our drinks in celebration.

The remainder of the night becomes increasingly hazy. Valentina and I hit it off, and so do the drinks we share. My consciousness fluctuates, offering mere glimpses of the evening—snippets of laughter over some triviality, though I can't piece together the specifics. Soon enough, the night dissolves into the warm, intoxicating embrace of the **** coursing through my veins.