Scarlett Johansson: Fun with House Rules

There was a knock on your door at 12 o'clock sharp. Apparently Ms. Johansson was quite punctual. That, or she was just eager to have your business. Not that there was all that much to your business, you chuckle to yourself. Though that very well might change in the future, you suspected.

You opened the door. The stunning Hollywood starlet stood on the other side, a dazzling smile on her face. She was wearing a simple green dress with her purse slung over her shoulder. Her blonde tresses were down, and cascaded past her shoulders.

You smile, offer her a greeting, and welcome her inside. The instant she crosses the threshold, you open up Bitch Remote. 'SCARLETT JOHANSSON' it read in a drop down menu of targets.

"I really am honored that you decided to pick me as your first real client" Johansson said, though you only half heard her. "The amount of prestige associated with your name is mind blowing. I would've thought that you'd pick Meryl Streep as your first."

"Oh believe me," You say, scrolling through options. "You're much more my type."

"That's good to know. Um... is there something wrong with your phone?" She asked.

"Oh no," you said, selecting an option that said 'ACCEPTS HOST'S REQUESTS WITHOUT QUESTION' and smiling at her. "Nothing at all."

"Oh... that's... good?" She said, looking a bit confused.

"Though there is one thing, Ms. Johansson. We do have a very strict dress code for female guests in this house."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know." She said, sounding genuinely apologetic.

"It's quite alright. Just strip out of that dress and we'll be alright."

She blinked at you.

"Oh yes, women aren't allowed to wear anything more clothing in this house than bras and panties I'm afraid." You said, trying to sound convincing.

"Well, if those are the rules, those are the rules." She said, unzipping her dress and letting it fall from her shoulders. "At least i didn't have to go back home and change."

"Indeed." You say, leering at her round tits, taunt stomach, and firm ass. She was even wearing red lace lingerie. "Those are very nice."

"Thank you." She said, fixing a bra strap. "I got these from a place in New York."

"Lovely." You said, though you hadn't been complimenting her lingerie. "Oh, and another rule."

She looked at you expectantly.

"Women may only be on all fours in this house except under special circumstances." You said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

Johansson nodded and got on her hands and knees. The sight of her in that position, and what that position did to her breasts and ass, got you hard immediately. She noticed it immediately and recoiled in disgust.

"Please don't mind my erection." You request.

"Okay." She said, her face going blank again.

"Actually, there is another rule regarding my erection that you should know." You say, a grin breaking through your facade.

"Th-There is?"

"Oh yes. If a woman is responsible for giving a man an erection in this house, it is her responsibility to help him get rid of it. Preferably by jerking him off and letting him cum on her face and hair."

"Well, that seems fair." She crawled over to you, a sight which by itself got you even harder, and brought herself up to her knees. "Can you please undo your belt?"

"That's your responsibility."

She nodded and undid your belt. You were practically jumping with anticipation as she unzipped your fly, pulled your briefs down, and took your cock into her hand.

You let out a loud moan. Her touch was like silk against your throbbing member. Slowly, purposefully, she began jerking you off, her face waiting just beneath the head of your cock, ready to catch any of your spunk.

As inexperienced with these scenarios as you are, it doesn't take long for her to make you cum. Rope after rope of hot jizz splattered across her perfect face, giving her the look of a cheap whore. When you were finally done, there was a sizable amount of it on her face.

"Leave it." You say to her, grabbing a handful of her hair and wiping your dick on it. "Rules."

She nodded and made to move to clean her face.

"Now come on." You say, zipping your pants back up. "We can discuss your future in my den."

Oh, and what a future it will be. You think to yourself.