Adult-FanFiction.org : Celebrity

Scrub-a-dub	By : Ibonekoen Category: Individual Celebrities > Matt Damon Views: 2373 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the celebrity I am writing about. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Scrub-a-dub
- 1
Scrub-a-dub

By Ibonekoen, with assistance from Redkitty

Okay, so I’ve known for quite some time now that Matt Damon, with his radiant smile and brilliant blue eyes, is obviously the modern day reincarnation of Adonis. It wasn’t until I finally met him face-to-face that I determined he is definitely more godly.

I was lucky enough to score an assignment for an upcoming issue of Vanity Fair. They wanted me to do a photo shoot with Matt Damon. There would, of course, be an accompanying article. Thankfully I wouldn’t have to write it. I’m a photographer, not a reporter.

Anyway, my boss tells me to “Be creative. Have fun.”

So I came up with this idea of shooting Matt in an old-fashioned white porcelain tub, up to his neck in bubbles. Mmmm, what a lovely mental image.

And believe me, it was even better watching him strip down to his underwear. It was at that very moment I realized his godliness. He’s got to be Apollo or maybe even Zeus. Isn’t there a god devoted solely to sex? If not, there is now. His name is Matthew Paige Damon.

Oh, by the way, in case you were wondering, I’m Cassidy Gray, photographer extraordinaire. Okay, okay, maybe not extraordinaire, but I’m pretty good, if I do say so myself.

I’m getting ahead of myself though. There’s so much to tell and I don’t really know where to begin. Though. . .I suppose, at the beginning would be a good spot, right?

He comes into the studio at exactly ten o’clock, trailed by his publicist, who is, of course, talking on a cell phone. Matt gives me this appraising look, one eyebrow cocking upward, and then grins at me.

Now, I’ll be the first to admit I’m no Hollywood starlet. I’m five foot six, with chin-length brown hair and hazel eyes. I’m most definitely not a stick figure. I am a size eighteen and proud of it. I am a curvaceous woman. I like to think I’m pleasing to look at. And I’d like to think that Matt thinks that as well.

“Hi.” he says. “I’m Matt Damon.”

“Cassidy Gray.” I respond, smiling. I love his voice. So smooth, just a hint of the Bostonian accent remaining. And have I mentioned his smile? In a word, gorgeous.

“So what’ve we got today?” he asks, looking around the room, which is mostly bare, with the exception of a couple of straight-back chairs and an old-fashioned white porcelain tub, already filled to the brimh wah water and foamy bubbles.

He raises an eyebrow, glancing at me. “You planning to give me a bath?” he asks, a touch of amusement in his voice.

My mouth goes dry. Ohhhh, so tempting. . .

I regain enough of my wits to say, “Something like that.”

He grins and I feel myself slowly melting into a puddle.

Okay, time to focus.

“No, actually, I thought it would make for a cute spread.” I say. “You, in the tub. Scrub-a-dub-dub. You know. Fangirls love that.”

He nods. “Right.” he says. “Okay, you’re the boss.”

The next thing I know, he’s pulling his t-shirt over his head and laying it down on a nearby chair.

Okay, so I knew when I came up with the tub idea that Matt Damon was going to have to strip down to at least his underwear, but I guess I never really thought about it actually happening, you know? It’s very surreal watching him take his shirt off. If only he were doing it under different pretenses. . .

Oh well. It still gives me a chance to focus on the liberally sprinkled freckles across his shoulder blades. Yum. I want to kiss every single one of them.

He has freckles on his face and arms too. I’d like to kiss all of those as well.

Ahem. I’m getting distracted again. It’s easy to do when you’re in the presence of a sex god.

So after he takes off his shirt, he unzips his pants, leaving him clad in just a pair of white briefs. Talk about yummy. Of course, I always pictured him to be a boxers kind of guy (see Good Will Hunting), but the briefs work well too.

He gets into the tub and lowers himself into the water. “Oooh, it’s even warm.” he says, grinning.

“Yeah, didn’t want you to catch pneumonia.” I say, grinning.

It’s all I can do not to strip off my own clothing and join him in that tub. And believe me, it’s very tempting.

We start out slowly, taking a few warm-up shots, getting used to each other. He begins to relax and starts cutting up, making silly faces, striking ridiculous poses. Then I give him a toothbrush, just to add to the silliness. After all, he is supposed to be scrub-a-dub-dubbing. Watching him bite down on that brush. . . Yum.

Finally, after I’ve exhausted two rolls of film, I call it wraps. I can’t stand it anymore. I’m overheated from the smoldering looks Matt’s been giving me all through the shoot.

“Okay, I think that’s a wrap.” I say.

“Excellent.” Matt’s publicist says. “Matt, I’ve got to run. I’ll catch up with you later, okay?”

“Sure thing.” Matt says, his eyes never leaving me.

“Here, can you take this down to the lab?” I tell my assistant, who’s been hovering in the corner, as I hand the camera to her.

“No problem.” she says. She gives Matt one last lingering look before heading out the door. He doesn’t notice. He’s too busy staring at me.

I’m trying to decipher what that look means when he says, “This was a good shoot. I had fun.”

“Oh thanks.” I respond, blinking. “You were great too. Very cooperative.”

“No problem.” he says, smiling. “Your name’s Cassidy, right?”

Holy shit, he remembered my name. Matt Damon remembered my fucking name. Matt fucking Damon, who won an Oscar for Good Will Hunting.

Why am I getting so hysterical over this, you ask? I mean, come on, I’m a photographer for Vanity Fair, right? I’ve photographed lots of actors. What’s the big deal about this one?

Normally, I’d agree. However, this is Matt Damon. Whose career I’ve followed ever since I saw him in School Ties. Matt Damon, who has an entire wall in my bedroom devoted to pictures and posters of him. There is a file folder on the desktop of my computer labeled ‘Matt Damon,’ that contains pictures, sound clips, videos, icons and other miscellaneous digital items relating to him.

He is my Adonis. My angel, my one temptation. And he remembered my name! Plus, you know, he is naked in a tub, in front of me.

Well, almost naked.

Which reminds me. . .that water’s probably getting cold by now. . .

“You know, you can get out of the tub now.” I say. “The shoot’s over.”

He grins. “Maybe I’m not ready to get out yet.”

I raise an eyebrow. Ohhhhhhhhkay.

“All right then.” I say. “Suit yourself.”

I move to pick up my purse, then hesitate, not really sure if it’s a good idea to leave him alone or not. Then I feel stupid. C’mon, it’s not like he’s going to drown in that water.

“Although the water is starting to get a bit cold.” he says suddenly. “Why don’t you join me and warm me up?”

I drop my purse back on the chair where it had been sitting and turn around, looking at him with my eyebrows raised. Did he just say what I think I heard or am I just exercising a bit of wishful thinking?

“Uhh. . .no.” I say. “I’m trying to retain some professionalism here.” See? I have willpower.

He seems to deflate a little. “Oh. . .right. Sorry.”

Okay. Now I feel bad. He looks like a sad little puppy.

“Are you okay?” I ask tentatively.

“Yeah. . .no.” he says. “Adjusting to being single.”

I raise an eyebrow, looking confused. “Aren’t you still dating. . .what’s her name?” I ask.

“Fuck, don’t ever mention her.” Matt says immediately, his expression darkening. “No. Th ove over.”

I blink. “Uh. . .okay.” Wow. That doesn’t sound like it ended well. What the fuck was her name? Damn it, she starred in Good Will Hunting with him. . . Didn’t like her much anyhow, but now she’s really on my shit list if she hurt my god.

“I’m done with actresses for a while, I think.” he says.

Ooooh, there’s hope for me yet. I mean, I’m not an actress. Fuck, what am I thinking? He wouldn’t be interested in me. Those looks were just. . .imagined. Yeah, that’s it.

I find myself inching closer to him, looking at him tentatively. “So. . .do you want to talk about it?”

You may think I’m crazy for asking him that, but what most people don’t realize is that actors are really lonely people. They just want somebody to talk to and usually they don’t know who to trust enough to open up to because this business is so fucked up. So, yes, I am offering to be Matt Damon’s shoulder if he needs one to cry on.

And, you know, just in case he actually does. . .this shirt will never again be washed.

Well, fuck, that was very fangirlish. God, I’m 27 years old and I’ve been reduced -- mentally at least -- to a giggling schoolgirl. Yeesh.

“There’s not really much to talk about.” he says, staring down at the bathwater. “We met on the set of a movie we were doing together, I fell head over heels in love. She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.”

Then he shrugs. “Things were good for a while. . .and then. . .it started getting messy. Bad breakup. Now I’m trying to pick up the pieces of my broken heart and move on with my life.”

“That’s awful.” I say, moving closer. “I mean, that you guys broke up.”

“No, what’s awful is that she was tipping off the press to places we’d go out to eat, just for the publicity.” he mutters, mainly to himself. “It was about being with a movie star, not being with me.”

“No way.” I gasp incredulously.

He nods.

“Wow.” I say, stunned. “If I were her, I wouldn’t want to share you with anyone.”

I realize that’s a totally inappropriate thing to say a moment after the words come out of my mouth. Then again, this entire conversation is inappropriate.

I glance at him self-consciously, feeling exceedingly stupid. . .and he’s actually smiling at me. Huh?

“Oh really?” he asks.

“Um, hypothetically speaking.” I insist weakly.

He grins and leans back in the tub, resting his arms on the edges. “C’mon.” he says. “I saw the way you were looking at me during the shoot. And I know you saw the way I was looking at you.”

I look at him, veryptedpted. I note the way the bubbles cling to his skin. He looks good. Really good.

“There’s plenty of room for us both.” he says, waggling his eyebrows.

Mmm, now see, that is very tempting. I mean, it’s Matt Damon, after all. So why am I standing here debating this?

Because he’s a god and I. . .well. . .I’m definitely not a goddess. Self-conscious issues, you understand.

“C’mon.” he says, leaning toward me. “I won’t bite unless you ask me to.”

He reaches out and runs his fingertips down my arm, leaving a trail of soap. I shiver. He touched me. I have been touched by the god. Holy shit.

I ponder it for a moment and then pull my shirt over my head and let it drop to the floor beside my feet. He grins, watching me with lustful blue eyes. I can’t help but smile back as I unbutton my pants and wriggle out of them.

I’ve got to be fucking insane. I’m standing in the middle of a room, in my bra and panties, with Matt Damon nearly naked in a bathtub watching me. Is this a dream, because if it is, please do NOT wake me.

“Oh shit, hang on.” I say, something occurring to me.

He gets this puzzled look on his face as I turn my back to him and sprint to the door. I very quickly turn the deadbolt, locking us in. Hey, I’m all for shagging Matt Damon in a tub, I’d just prefer nobody walk in on us while we’re doing it, okay?

“Ohhh.” he says understandingly as I turn back around. “I was afraid you were leaving.”

I laugh. “In just my bra and underwear? No way. Just ensuring nobody walks in on us.”

“Oh, I see.” he says, smiling.

I lick my lips as I reach around behind me to unclasp the back of my bra. He leans forward a little, his eyes glinting in anticipation as I ease the straps off my shoulders, then slowly pull the bra away and toss it aside.

He lets out a long sigh. “Damn, you’re beautiful.”

“Please.” I say. “I’m hardly model material.”

“The fuck you aren’t.” he says. “And besides, who gives a fuck if you aren’t model material. I mean it. I think you’re beautiful.”

“Well, all right then.” I respond, amused, as I remove my panties and let them dangle from my fingertip.

He grins, licking his lips, and lets out a whistle.

I laugh and let the panties fall to the floor, then move toward the tub.

“Ooh, hold on.” he says.

I raise an eyebrow curiously as he wriggles around in the tub, sloshing water over the sides. “What are you do. . .ohhhh.” I say as he stands up.

Ohhh. Now that is a man. Those pecs, those abs. . .that package. All covered in soapy bubbles and water rivulets. Rawr.

He smirks, then whips off his sodden underwear and drops them to the floor. He sits down and motions to me with his hands. “Now, where were we?” he says.

I grin and step into the tub. His hands immediately go to my hips as I sink down into his lap. He leans forward, tilting his face up. Our lips meet in an electrifying kiss as his hands start to slide upward from my hips.

Oh. My. God. I am kissing Matt Damon.

His hands move higher on my back as he pulls me closer, deepening the kiss. I moan softly, my hands coming up to run through his hair. His tongue darts out and teases my lips. Immediately I open my mouth to him.

He eagerly slips his tongue into my mouth and suddenly I’m in heaven. His hands move higher on my back, caressing my skin. Then one slips around to cup my breast and I groan.

His tongue explores my mouth as his hand gently kneads my breast. I shiver as his thumb brushes across my nipple and he begins to kiss down my neck.

“Oh fuckm drm dreaming. I have to be.” I whisper, curling my fingers in his hair.

He chuckles against my neck and lightly pinches my nipple. I gasp, shivering.

“That convince you?” he asks.

“Oh definitely.” I say, nodding.

“Good.” he says before leaning close to nibble at my earlobe.

I shiver, moaning softly as he takes my earlobe into his mouth and begins to lightly suck. Ohhh, is it getting hot in here or is that just me melting into a puddle of goo?

“Oh god, Matt.” I breathe.

He begins to kiss his way down my neck and I tilt my head back, giving him more access. He presses his thumb against my nipple then begins to move it in slow circles. >
<>

Fuck, that feels good.

I rock my hips forward slightly, shivering as he runs his tongue over my pulse point, his thumb still caressing my nipple.

“Matt.” I groan.

“Cassidy, you are so beautiful.” he murmurs as he gently kneads my breasts.

“You said that.” I gasp breathlessly, arching into his hands. “Still don’t believe you.”

“Oh fuck.” he hisses, suddenly stopping.

I frown, looking down at him in confusion. Shit, what did I do wrong?

“Nothing.” he says quickly. “You didn’ any anything wrong.”

I blink. Whoa, did I say that out loud? I must’ve. . .I don’t think Matt can read minds. . .

“I just realized,” he continues, “I don’t have any condoms.”

I giggle, feeling a bit relieved. “Oh, is that all?”

He looks at me, frowning. “Well, yeah. That’s a big deal.” He pauses. “Isn’t it?”

“Nope.” I say, grinning as I loop my arms around his neck and lean close. “I’m on the pill.”

His eyebrows lift and he starts to grin. Then I kiss him passionately and he wraps his arms around me, moaning.

We spend the next few minutes examining each other’s tonsils. Our hands aren’t exactly idle either. His eyes have darkened to a deep sea blue. His face is flushed and his hair is tousled from my fingers being run through it. Damn, I’ve never seen arousal look so good on a man.

“Cassidy, I want you.” he says breathlessly. “I need you.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” I gasp. I lean forward and lick his neck, tracing a path up to his ear. Then I draw his earlobe into my mouth and begin to nibble.

He groans, his hands gripping my hips.

It takes a quick shift of my hips and me rising up a bit, but then he’s slipping inside of me. . .and holy shit, I’ve never felt more blissful than I do at this moment.

I moan, sinking downward slowly, drawing out the moment. And then. . .he’s fully inside of me. We both groan at the feel of our bodies united. We are one and I think that a meteor could smash into the building at this very moment and I would die happy. Very, very happy.
Wbr>We both still, simply enjoying the intimacy of our current state. We lock gazes and I notice that his eyes are so dark, they’re almost black. Our breathing is even synchronized, both of us drawing in deep, heavy breaths.

“Fuck, Cassidy.” he groans. “You feel incredible.”

“Shh.” I say. “No more talking.”

I cup my hands around his head as I kiss him passionately, my hips beginning to move slowly.

He moans, his arms tightening around my waist as he kisses me back with equal fervor. His hips begin to move in rhythm with mine so that as I’m thrusting down, he’s thrusting up and it’s a hell of a good thing. As we open our mouths to each other and our tongues meet in a seductive dance, our hips move faster.

Pretty soon he’s pounding into me, his face buried in my neck. Water is sloshing over the sides and I don’t give a fuck because I don’t have to clean up and I’m feeling way too good to give a shit anyway.

My head is tilted back, my eyes squeezed shut as he kisses my throat. One of my hands clutches the back of his head as the other grips the side of the tub tightly. His arms are still wrapped around me and he tilts his head down to kiss my breasts.

I feel an incredible pressure building up inside of me and finally I can’t hold back any longer. I cry his name loudly, shuddering pleasurably as I climax. His release follows a few moments after mine and he presses his face against my breast to muffle his cries.

Holy shit. Holy fuck. I think that was the best sex I’ve had in a long time.

He goes limp, sinking down further into the tub, panting. I sag against him, leaning my forehead against his shoulder.

“Wow.” he says breathlessly.

“Tell me about it.” I sigh blissfully, turning my face to kiss his neck. It must’ve been some really good sex for him too.

He chuckles. “I didn’t take you for a screamer.”

I laugh. “I hope nobody heard us.”

He laughs harder. “Oh trust me, I think all of LA heard us.”

I giggle, then sit up, brushing my hair back out of my face. “Um, I should probably be going.”

“Don’t.” he begs, catching my wrist in his hand and pulling my hand back away fromfaceface. “Don’t go. Not yet.”

I hesitate, frowning slightly. “I really should. . . I mean I need to look at those photos.”

“C’mon, it’ll be hours before the lab gets them developed.” Matt says, looking at me pleadingly. “We don’t have to stay here, if you don’t want. We can get dressed and go have a cup of coffee.”

“Or get together and eat a bunch of caramels?” I suggest, grinning.

Matt blinks for a second and then laughs. “Yeah.” he says, nodding. “Exactly. So what do you say?”

Okay, so this whole encounter has just taken on a new level of surrealism.

My response, you ask? Well. . .what do you think?
- 1
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Scrub-a-dub