A Fuck to Forget
From Create Your Own Story
Emilia pulled the man into down the hall, determination in her eyes. She barely made it to her room and, finding she had left the door unlocked, pushed the door open. The man she'd found at the party was close behind her, eager to get between the hot actresses legs. Most men were, and usually Emilia wouldn't indulge their fantasies. At least, not after just a few drinks. Okay, maybe more than a few.
Ok, she was absolutely hammered, drunk to the point where she'd forgotten his name. Not that she would ever remember it, he'd be gone in the morning anyhow. Her jacket was gone, her shirt pushed up over her breasts. The man was far from gentle, practically mauling her breasts. Emilia didn't care, she just needed it, a burning desire to fuck her problems away.
The stranger roughly pushed Emilia to the bed, the drunken beauty now on her back. She hadn't worn panties that night, so when he tore off her skirt, he revealed her stunning pussy. A couple of days ago she'd worked hard trimming it to look like a heart. A perfect Valentines Day present for the man she had loved. HAD loved.
She was so wasted and lost in thought she almost didn't feel his dick enter her. She felt the sting though, the feeling of his cock ramming into her fairly dry pussy. She wasn't turned on, wasn't pretending to be turned on. If the man had been paying attention, he would of even pain in her eyes. He had other priorities, though, as he ravished his latest conquest. He was loving every second of this, Emilia's tight pussy pleasuring every inch of his cock. He knew this would be a night he would never forget.
Hannah was hiding in her own closet. She hadn't been sure how to react when two people had barged into her room, kissing and groping each other. They hadn't noticed her in the corner, and the actress had quietly slipped into the closet and closed the door. She left it opena bit, just enough for her to see what was going on in her room.
She quickly realized the other woman was her Emilia Clarke, a fellow Game of Thrones actress. You would think that meant the two knew each other, but that was far from the truth. Emilia Clarke was Daenerys Targaryen, platinum blonde Mother of Dragons. Hannah Murray was just Gilly, the cute love interest of Samwell Tarly. The two had never spoken, and were rarely even invited to the same events. It was a complete coincidence they were even in the same hotel, some mixup with HBO putting them just two doors apart.
She must of wandered into the wrong room, Gilly thought, resolving to give the girl some privacy. Maybe when they fell asleep, she would sneak out. However, something stopped her from shutting the door, something made her keep watching. Emilia's eyes. Hannah had expected them to be hot with lust and passion, but they weren't. They were sad, mournful, on the verge of tears. Gilly's mind spun. Was he forcing himself on her? No, she'd seen her pull the man into the room. Had he slipped something in her drink? No, she looked drunk, but not drugged. As these questions floated through Hannah's head, she didn't even notice the man take out his phone.
The click of a camera brought Emilia back to the real world. Her mind raced as she saw the iPhone above her, held by the man she didn't know. "Wait," she croaked, barely audible over the pounding in her ears.
The man paid her no mind, taking another picture before flipping the actress over. Emilia's was suddenly face down on the bed, her vision nothing but darkness. The man was still pounding into her, one hand on her ass while the other took more pictures. Pictures, no, not pictures. Pictures ended up online, pictures went viral, pictures ruined actress' lives. But she couldn't stop him, not now. She was powerless, drunk and weak and afraid.
SMACK! The stranger spanked her hard, hard enough to shake her body. SMACK! Now the other cheek, and even harder this time. His phone was still out, but she didn't hear anymore clicks. He was probably taking video.
SMACK! She closed her eyes.
SMACK! She thought about the man she was trying to forget, the man who had betrayed her.
SMACK! She felt his cum pour into her, filling her unprotected womb. She barely felt it. She thought she heard him take one more picture, of her pussy, leaking his cum, but she wasn't sure. He was gone a few seconds later, leaving Emilia alone, naked, hurt.
She pulled her knees to her chest, tried to forget what had just happened, tried to forget that cheating son of a bitch.
She failed. Then she began to cry.
