Better than Expected!

“JLaw, baby!” John murmured, enjoying seeing the blonde celebrity flinch as he used her least favorite nickname. “You are the most gorgeous, beautiful little piece of ass I’ve ever seen.”

Normally, Oscar-winning Jennifer Lawrence would have be supremely offended, but John’s words left her glowing and confident in her ‘freshly-fucked’ look. She moved to kiss John but he stopped her with a grimace, not wanting to touch her cum and tear stained, makeup streaked face. With a giggle, Jennifer turned from her ‘boyfriend’ and left the limo with her newfound confidence, no longer even noticing that she still had her tit hanging out from her dress.

There was a hushed gasp as the blonde starlet emerged from her limo, clearly just having had a sexual encounter and smiling brightly as if she were proud of it. Then the blinding camera flashes and questions slammed into her like a flood.

Jennifer casually made her way towards the banquet hall, stopping and posing for pictures and autographs; John was practically invisible to the paparazzi and fans as he left the limo after her.

“Jennifer! Jen! What’re you wearing?” one reporter called out.

“Oh, this? This is my boyfriend!” the actress giggled, motioning to the cum still on her face. Then a moment of realization hit her. “Oh, you meant my dress!” she laughed, hand brushing the cum-smeared silk. “Well, that’s—OH!” she cried out, jumping as John gave her ass a casual slap and grope as he walked past. “That was—that was also my boyfriend,” she murmured with a shy smile at the cameras.

Seeing that John was making his way to the banquet without her, Jennifer excused herself and chased after him as best she could in her high heels.

“Jennifer! Jennifer!” a cute redhead cried, pushing her way through the throng of paparazzi and holding her microphone out towards the starlet’s cum-covered lips. “Can you answer a few questions for Femi-Miss Fashions?”

“Umm…sure,” Jen murmured, anxiously glancing towards John’s departing form.

“Can you explain your choice of fashion and makeup tonight?” the reporter asked. “Is it a bold statement about how Hollywood uses women?”

“I…I guess?” Jen shrugged with an embarrassed smile, a drop of cum dribbling down her face onto the carpet below. “I mean, I, uh, had lots of help with…with this,” she motioned to her runny mascara, messy hair, and cum smears.

“I see,” the ginger nodded. “So, the, uh, spilled seed is to show that you won’t let men define what’s sexual or decent?”

“I mean, it was also fun when he choked me and tried to make me drink all his cum!” Jen giggled half-jokingly.

“Oh…” the reporter hesitated, clearly not ready for the movie star’s answer. “Does…is your exposed breast a callback to fierce, female Amazonian warriors?”

“Holy shit! My tit is out!?” Jennifer’s eyes were wide as her hand flew to her chest, finally finding her exposed boob.

John was fighting not to giggle as he watched the actress’s misplaced confidence backfiring horrendously on her—her face burning bright pink as she tried to nonchalantly tuck her tit back into her dress.

Leaving the bimbo-slut-whore to her fate, John headed inside, eager to find out exactly what kind of event Jennifer Lawrence had dragged him to. Much to his surprise, it looked like he was the only man at the banquet—and all of the other attendees appeared to be female celebrities as well. His mind was racing, wondering if he should find another victim or embarrass Jennifer even further amongst her peers…