Task Number 9(2)

James took the envelope from Nathan and read it over, stopped, then read it again.

"By now, you should have had a nice lunch and are ready to accomplish your ninth task on the scavenger hunt. The ninth task is to give a lady head, otherwise known as cunnilingus. Simple task? No. James must be chosen to accomplish this task and the lady chosen is Mrs. Blake Edwards. The reward will be $4,750 dollars, with $1,900 for the non-participants. The proof required is a phone call to Nathan from Mrs. Edwards as the act is in progress. If you follow the instructions, you will receive the money upon completion."

"Do you know who Mrs. Blake Edwards is?"

Nathan shook his head negatively. "No, sir. I'm afraid I don't."

"Her stage name is Julie Andrews."

"Wow." Nathan breathed. "I understand that you spoke with her this afternoon."

The older man stared at the driver. "How'd you find that out?"

Nathan just smiled and stepped forward, setting two objects in front of him. With astonishment, he recognized it as Miss Andrews' wallet and her platinum compact. "I'm sure she'll want these back."

"She'll think I stole them!"

"No, she won't the front desk has already called and told her that they were found in the lobby. And that a patron is going to bring them up to her."

"Well, that's pretty smooth, Nathan, but we are talking about Julie Andrews here."

Nathan threw his head back and laughed. "You think just because she's such a goody-goody on TV, that she's one in real life, too?" The driver grinned at James' expression. "Let me let you in on a little secret. She's as depraved as everyone else is. In fact, she requests special services from us all the time because she can count on our discretion. And I know I can count on yours."

"Of course, Nathan." James fingered the wallet. "So I take it that she's waiting for me?"

"Yep." Nathan pressed a condom into the man's hand. "I have been authorized to offer you an additional $2,000 if you fuck her and bring this back full of your cum."

James looked at the condom, a face swimming in his mind's eye. Not that of the delectable Julie Andrews, but that of Beverly. If he did this, would she understand that he was doing it for the game?

God, he felt so strange! He'd never worried so much over a women, especially one that he hadn't fucked yet. No, that was the wrong word. Fucking was not something he thought of with Beverly. He thought of lying in her arms, her bulk spooned behind him, enveloping him in warmth. He thought of seeing her face across from his at the breakfast table, listening to the sound of her voice and hearing her laughter. He thought of walking into an event holding her hand, her warm fingers intertwined with his as he faced the coldness of the professional world, knowing that she was not only at his side but in his heart. He wasn't thinking about fucking. He was thinking about lovemaking, about love.About love.

"Okay." He palmed the plastic-encased square and shoved it into his pocket. "What's her room number?"

******

Matthew returned to the room in the employee compound. Megan was sleeping, her arms and legs still bound and her pussy hair matted with his spent ejaculate. After the third time, she'd quit crying and had really started enjoying his brand of fucking. She pushed back against his fat cock when he'd buried it up her ass and she endured a spanking that left his hand blazing with heat and her pussy dripping with cream. He was still amazed at that. He had licked every single bit of her cunt juice from his fingers and had decided to take her gag off. Immediately, she accepted his rough kiss, pressing her hips against him as he bit into her bottom lip and drew the sweet taste of coppery blood.

Now she stirred into wakefulness, her large eyes alighting on him and a needy smile curving her lips. "I fell asleep waiting for you to come back. I didn't make any noise."

"You're a good girl." He rasped into her ear, his fingers tracing the outlines of his bite marks on her breasts. "I might keep you." Her eyes glowed with hope. "Would you like to be my toy?"

"Oh, yes, Matthew! I'd love it."

She wasn't too bad-looking maybe because she was only nineteen but she would grow into those doe-sized eyes and large teeth. Her breasts were certainly large enough and her cunt was tight enough. She had been a virgin so there was a pretty good chance that she would become pregnant. She was malleable and with a little prodding, could be imaginative in her own right.

"We'll talk about it later. Right now, I need you to do me a favor."

*****

The door to Suite 1582 opened after his second knock and the absolutely breathtaking Julie Andrews stood in the doorway, her strawberry-blonde hair glinting in the fluorescent light. She smiled, warming him from ear lobe to cock tip. "Come in."

James stepped into the room, his eyes sweeping over the actress' figure, covered by a thick robe, her rosy nipples swathed in absorbent cotton. His mind was fighting with the images he knew of her from the silver screen. The sweet innocent fromThe Sound of Music, the brash flirt fromThoroughly Modern Millie, the talented coloratura fromVictor/Victoria. Even the self-assured ruler fromThe Princess Diaries. None of these matched with the Julie Andrews he now saw before him.

"Can't figure where to put me, can you?"

James shook his head, an outer response to his inner turmoil. "I'm sorry?"

"I said, you can't figure out where to put me. In your mind, I mean." Julie picked up a fluted martini glass and took a long sip, fishing the pickled pearl onion out with the swizzle spoon and chewing it, watching him all the while with her beautiful eyes. "People that I meet seem to have that common problem."

"I'm sorry, it's just that … "

"I know. I'm the Mother Teresa of film." She laughed. "Or something as pious as that." She walked over to the bar. "What would you like to drink?

"Vodka and tonic. Grey Goose, you have it."

"I indeed have it." She silently whipped up his cocktail, setting it in his hand with a wry smile. "I'm a regular human being, Mr. … "

"Weathers. James Weathers, but please call me James."

"James." She processed his name and continued. "I'm a regular human being, James. I, like most of the other human beings on this Earth, enjoy the pleasures of the flesh. And for some strange reason, you intrigued me this morning."

"Oh, speaking of this morning … " James fished the wallet and compact out of his pocket and handed them to her. "I believe these belong to you."

She took them with a sensual smile, her eyes locked onto his as their hands touched. "Yes. These are mine."

James watched as she turned, tucking them into her Versace bag. He wasn't sure how to proceed so he fell back on his old tricks. He moved up behind her, resting his hands on her waist. "You are a very beautiful woman, Miss Andrews."

"The name is Julie and thank you." She half-purred, pulling his arms tighter around her. "I suppose you'd like to know what you're here for."

James took a risk and placed a warm, wet kiss against her swan-like neck. "I think I already know."

Julie turned in his arms, her eyes dark. "Then let's get down to business. I have an itch that needs a good scratching." He leaned up to give her a kiss and she turned her head, then pulled out of his embrace, heading for the balcony. A padded lounge chair had been set up for someone to watch the approaching sunset and Julie sat down, snuggling into the padding and making herself comfortable. Then, she opened her robe, exposing a well-trimmed pussy and in her best stage voice, growled, "Start scratching."

James knelt and spread her creamy thighs open, letting his fingers rub against her luxuriant skin as he gently kissed his way toward her fragrant pussy. At the first touch of his tongue, she let out a low, throaty moan. He let his tongue sluice down her perfumed cunt lips, enjoying the Elizabeth Arden scent on her stomach and the aroma of lavender soap and pussy juice thick in his nostrils. He sucked each lip into his mouth, laving them with a fat tongue.

Julie shouted at his ministrations, her hands balled into fists as she felt his tongue exploring her tender parts. "Oh, that's nice, James. Mmmm, yes."

He moved to the other side and sucked the other lip in, giving it the same treatment. She responded with ardor, pushing the robe farther open and cupped her breasts, her manicured fingers slipping around her nipples and giving them gentle, but firm tweaks. James pushed her thick pud back, uncovering her rapidly swelling clit and blowing on it. Julie gasped. He touched his tongue to the tiny bit of flesh, teasingly at first, then with more passion. Her body arched and her pussy quivered under his lips and a river of pussy cream flowed from between those pink lips.

Julie picked up a cell phone that was lying at her elbow and punched in a few numbers. "Uh, hello? … Hi, Nathan. … Oh, yes. He's right here, between my legs … " James gave her clit a tug and she nearly shouted into the phone. "God, he's good, Nathan. He's the best I've ever had … Mmmm, you want me to tell you what he's doing?" James lengthened his tongue and lanced it into her honey hole. "Oh, Nathan! Jesus Christ, he's fucking my … unh … my pussy with his … oh, yes … his tongue! Oh, yes, deeper!" He pushed her legs apart and pressed his tongue deeper within her. "OH!" James heard her gasp and added a little suction to his efforts. "Oh, Christ! Nathan! Oh, my God! I'm going to … to … to … OOHH!"

With a great cry of pleasure, Julie Andrews came, her body bucking against his mouth and depositing more and more cream. James lapped up every bit of it and stroked again, bringing her to another series of orgasms, one smaller than the other until like the sun, she was retreating into her house, retiring for the evening. When she'd stopped trembling, he closed her robe and carried her into the bedroom, tucking her in.

"He was fantastic, Nathan. I'd like to have him again next time." She looked up at him with sleep-bleary eyes and handed him the phone. "Thank you for making an old lady feel good."

"You're not an old lady, Julie, by any means."

She touched his cheek. "You're very sweet, James. You can stay the night if you wish."

James looked down into the eyes of the beautiful actress and for a moment, he was lost in fan worship, thinking of how wonderful it would be to make love to her, to hear her call her name as she came. But it was all an illusion, just as Hollywood and its fleeting fame and glory was. His fingers rubbed against the outline of the rubber in his pocket and Beverly's shy smile played in his mind.

"Thank you for the offer, Julie, but I've got to get going." James pulled the blanket up over her shoulder. "Is there anything else I can do for you before I leave?"

"No." She muttered, quickly falling asleep. "Thank you."

"Sleep well, Julie. I'll always love you." James stood and looked down on her, not sure if she'd heard his last words, but feeling his heart lift when she smiled in her sleep. Good night, sweet Julie.

When he returned downstairs, he was surprised to find Shane and Beverly engaged in a game of 8-ball. Shane greeted him with his usual enthusiasm but Beverly was reserved, her smile tremulous and her body language displaying pain. Suddenly, he was tired, the years of his womanizing and being a lothario weighing upon him like the world on the shoulders of Atlas. Suddenly, he wasn't James Hawethorne Weathers, lead anchorman. He was James Weathers, ordinary man.

"How did it go?"

"Great." James gave Shane a weary smile. "I can't talk about it but it was very nice."

"Good." Shane moved away to try a bank shot and James turned to Beverly. "Beverly … "

"There's no need to say anything, James. I … we all know what's required of us in this 'game'."

"Yeah, but I didn't want to hurt you, Bev."

Her brown eyes were dull with indifference. "No harm done. We've only known each other for a couple of weeks, James. I mean, we're not boyfriend and girlfriend."

James heard the words but he knew that she didn't believe them any more than he did. He grasped her hand, looking into her eyes and willing that spark back into them. "I'm going to take a nap. Give me a call when everyone goes to supper."

"Sure thing." Shane shouted as James left the game room, heading for the elevators. He turned to his pool partner, noticing that she was standing, watching James leave also, but wearing a curious expression. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Beverly said softly, looking down into her open hand. "Not a thing." She wasn't sure what it meant but the fact that James had handed her a condom had to have some meaning.

And it could only be good.