“So this is your room, Miss Alba!” the boy said as he unlocked the door and pushed it open, showing her inside with an almost excessively polite gesture.
Jessica smiled tiredly as she walked in. A nice small room, not the usual luxury she had almost come accustomed to during the last few years of her acting career, but the decent furnishing of a small mid-class hotel. A table with a small tv, a mirror, an old wardrobe, a small adjoining bathroom and, most important of all: a nice, comfy bed. An open door showed the way to a small, adjoining bathroom and she saw that it was equipped with a big, glass wall shower, by far the most modern piece of furniture of the room, which otherwise had an elderly charme.
“Thanks,” she mumbled as she dropped her purse carelessly from her shoulder onto a chair. She had just endured a ten-hour-flight from Los Angeles to Amsterdam and all she wanted for now was one or two hours of rest, alone-time.
The boy pulled her suitcase into the room and smiled at her nervously. “Uhm… Miss Alba… I hope this isn’t too much to ask, but… uhm…”
Despite her weariness Jessica couldn’t help but smirking at the boy’s quirkiness. He was kinda cute, in a little-brother-way. Blonde, big blue eyes and childish chubby cheeks. Jessica guessed him to be around eighteen years old. “C’mon, buddy, spit it out!” she encouraged him.
The boy’s cheeks reddened, but he took heart. “I’d like to ask you… you know… could I… we take a picture? Otherwise my friends would never believe that THE Jessica Alba has been at our shitty little hotel…”
The sentence was making her giggle and her cheeks actually flushed a little. After all those years in the spotlight a fan’s request could still make her blush! “Sure, Jan,” she read from his nametag, “But with how I look right now they will probably think you took a picture with Jessica Alba’s mom rather than with me…” she pointed her obvious tiredness out with a self-ironic smile.
“Naah, Miss, you look gorgeous!” the boy hastily assured and produced a camera phone from his pocket. Placing his nervously shivering arm around her shoulders he pulled her close. Jessica did her best to put on her sparkling smile as the boy snapped his photo. “Thank you so much!”
“No worries,” Jessica smiled and pulled a five-Euro-note from her pocket. Shoving it into his hand she unmistakably showed her wish for him to leave. “For your troubles…” she said as she gently but surely pushed him outside.
“Thank you, Miss Alba!” the boy said with a wide grin, his eyes still fixed on the display of his mobile, checking the picture he had just taken with the beautiful Hollywood actress, “If you need anything, just call me… the reception, I mean!”
“Sure. I will remember that,” she ensured him before she closed the door.
Sighing she closed her eyes and leaned against the wall for a second. Finally peace! No fucking paps, no fucking agents, no fucking Cash! She and her boyfriend had had a lot of trouble lately. Long periods of time apart because of their jobs and when they were together, they almost always fought. Jessica loved him and knew he felt the same way about her, but after three years her nerves were down. They had decided to put their relationship on pause, to take a break. After three years Jessica was single again, well, pretty much single.
To get her head clear she had decided to take a week vacation, away from the Hollywood life, get some distance before she sorted her life out. The idea of Holland had been a friend’s and then everything had been going fucking fast. She had booked her flight, packed her bags and left the US, literally fled. And here she was. In Holland. Alone. Pretty much single.
Sighing she opened her eyes and looked into the mirror. Dark circles beneath her eyes, her hair done up in a tight bun and her eyes red, dressed in a grey hoodie and sweatpants, her flying attire, she certainly didn’t look her best right now. But, honestly, she still liked what she saw. Apart from her comfy travel outfit, there was her exotic face and her amazing body. Dark hair, dark eyes and pouty, red lips, nice firm boobs, a flat tummy and strong, lean legs. The girl looking back at her was obviously a stunner.
Absently she looked down to her purse. Out of the side pocket peeked something out. Her ticket. When her agent had heard that she would go to Amsterdam he had excitedly told her that during that time 50 Cent would have a concert there and he had insisted on getting her a backstage pass. “Jessica,” he had said, “That’s the perfect way to blow off some steam!” So she had accepted. And now she would go to 50 Cent’s show in a couple of hours…
But first, she really needed some rest! An hour of sleep and she’d feel reborn! She crossed her arms and grabbed the hem of her old hoodie, then pulled it off and dropped it to the floor. She reached behind her back and unsnapped her plain, white bra, freeing her bronze c-cups. Her small hazel-colored nipples hardened when they touched the air, jutting out proudly. Then she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her cozy black sweatpants and shoved them down to the floor before clumsily stepping out of them, along with sneakers and socks. Finally she stripped off her white panties and added them to the pile of clothing, standing completely nude in the middle of the room. Glancing into the mirror she admired her own recently waxed pussy and couldn’t resist gently running her fingers through her soft nether lips, feeling the hint of wetness between them. The pleasurable shudder made her moan silently.
“Shit!” Suddenly she realized that she hadn’t closed the room’s curtains and with wide eyes she looked out to the street, to the opposite house’s window. She yelped with shock when she saw the balding, fat man stand there and ogle her, his mouth open as she gave him a full-frontal view of her naked beauty, her bald peach as well as her titties. With a shriek she jumped forward and ripped the curtains closed, her heart racing inside her chest.
She took a second to catch her breath as she stood there, her hands still tightly clasping the curtains. After a moment, once she had calmed down a little, she let out a little chuckle and shook her head at her own carelessness. At least there was no harm done. But she needed sleep!
She walked over to the bed and crawled on top of it. It was July and too warm to sleep under the covers so she simply lay down and buried her head in the soft pillow, letting out a blissful moan as she relaxed. Seconds later she was deep asleep.
A story about all the sexual situations Miss Alba experiences in the strange city.
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