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The Photo Shoot	By : ravenwoman Category: Individual Celebrities > Johnny Depp Views: 3952 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know Johnny Depp. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-The Photo Shoot
- 1
He walked up the steps of the building as far as the glass doors and stopped, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. He was already late, but fuck it. Just another photoshoot for just another teen magazine. What was this one? Teen Beat, Teen Life, Teen Shit? He couldn’t remember. As grateful as he was for his recent success, for being able to pay the rent on time when it hadn’t been so long ago that he’d been scrounging change for a pack of smokes, he hated this. Hated the whole teen idol bullshit. He had bigger plans than a few years as a pin-up boy followed by pathetic obscurity. He felt like a joke.
He tossed the butt away and went inside. The receptionist greeted him and called someone down to escort him. While he waited, seated in one of the chairs in the lobby, she watched him furtively. Her attention made him nervous, and he buried his face in a copy of the magazine from the table next to him. God, what insipid crap, he thought. And most of the faces gracing the pages were barely teenagers. Even looking as young as he did for his age, his days as teen heart-throb were definitely numbered.
“Mr. Depp?”
He looked up to see a middle-aged man in a casual suit. He rose and shook the outstretched hand.
“I’m David. I’ll be your photographer today.”
“Nice to meet you,” he said, thinking, what a job and wondering if this man had greater ambitions than taking crotch-shots of the latest pretty boys for consumption by twelve year old girls.
“Same here. Are we ready?”
“Sure.” He followed him down a hallway to an elevator. He punched in floor 5 and they rode in silence. As the doors opened on another hallway, the man said, “This should be pretty standard. Some full-length, centerfold shots, some nice, non-threatening bulge, a few close-ups with heavy filter and dreamy eyes, you probably know the drill by now.”
Johnny found himself respecting the man a little more. At least he knew what his job was, didn’t seem to entertain any delusions of grandeur. They approached a door and the man opened it and ushered him in ahead of him. The lights and camera and props were already set up and running.
“If you’ll have a seat there, we’ll just get the lighting adjusted.”
He sat in the straight-backed chair at the center of the array of equipment, wanting a cigarette and hoping this wouldn’t take too long. The lights limited his vision to a few feet, and he didn’t see the girl until she bent down next to him to move a cord.
“Oh,” said the man absently, “this is my assistant Jane. If you need anything, a drink or whatever, she’ll get it for you.”
“Oh, okay. Great. Hi, Jane.” A pretty, petite girl, long dark hair and big eyes, didn’t look much more than a teenager herself.
“Hi.” She scurried away, but not before he saw the blush rising in her cheeks. He smiled. This might not be so terrible after all, not with a pretty girl to flirt with.
“These are for the Valentine’s issue, so…” David pulled out some props, red and pink and fluffy things, his expression one of sincere apology. Jane brought him a lacey, heart-shaped box and a stuffed pink bear.
“If you’ll just, uh, hold them like this..” she held them out to him, indicating the angles and he took them. She made a few adjustments, being almost ridiculously careful not to touch him, he noticed, and scuttered back into the darkness. God, she was so delicate and shy. And so obviously nervous around him. A fan? Or just timid by nature? He felt a stirring in his lap and willed it away. Non-threatening bulge, remember, Johnny. Wouldn’t do to be sporting a full-blown hard-on, not in the pages of Little Girl Weekly.
The next hour went quickly as they covered the routine poses and expressions. They’d just finished some in front of a red backdrop with a bouquet of fake white roses when David sighed and switched off the big light. “Not much left, but I think we should break for lunch and finish up after, if that’s okay?”
“That’s fine,” Johnny said, thinking he could hardly object, considering how late he’d been. He wasn’t hungry, but the thought of a cigarette (or two or three) was appealing.
“Jane can call out for something for you. She has some menus. Or you could go out, of course. Whatever you’d prefer.” He put on his jacket and went to the door. “I’ll be back in an hour.” And left.
As his eyes adjusted to the normal lighting, Johnny saw Jane across the room, busying herself with putting away props and preparing for the next shots. She kept her back to him, bending and stooping, and he couldn’t help but appreciate her ass through her jeans.
“So,” he ventured after a minute or two, “where can I go to smoke?”
She turned around, still bending down, and he caught a flash of her small but lovely cleavage. Oh, fuck, he was quickly losing the battle against his hard-on.
“You can smoke in here if you don’t tell.” She pulled a small, tin ashtray from a drawer of the desk in the corner and came over, holding it out. “I do it all the time.” She smiled and blushed again, and he felt his cock swelling against his jeans. He lit up, balancing the tiny tray on his knee, and said, “How long have you worked here, Jane?”
“Oh, I don’t really work here. This is just, uh, part of a course I’m taking. Sort of my lab work.”
“You’re in college, then.” Hoping she wouldn’t correct him and say she was still in high school.
“Yes, just started.” She pulled up another chair and lit a cigarette of her own. “Do you mind?” she asked, indicating the ashtray.
“No, here.” And he moved his leg closer to her, so she could reach. She flicked her ash and her hand brushed his thigh. “Sorry,” she said.
“I’m not,” he replied, and this time her whole face and throat went pink. He put out his smoke and watched her finish hers. When she was done, she butted it out and took the ashtray, setting it on the floor beside her chair. He left his leg as it was, a few inches from hers. Her hand stole out and came to rest there, sending a thrill through him, his erection impossible to conceal now.
She looked at it, then moved her hand higher, onto it. Had he thought her shy? Oh Jesus!
“Jane, come here.” He patted his other thigh, and she got up and came around, sitting on his lap. Her weight on his crotch was maddening, and when she shifted herself slightly, he moaned softly.
He turned to face her, bringing his lips to hers. She sighed and opened her mouth to him, her tongue soft and wet. He probed deeper, licking her teeth, sliding his tongue around hers.
He cupped one small breast in his hand, squeezing it tenderly, tweaking and teasing the nipple between his fingers.
“Oh, Johnny,” she whispered, and turned herself around to straddle him, her legs spread, her crotch pressing firmly against his, undulating gently.
He lifted her to her feet and undid the button of her jeans. He drew the zipper down and slid his hands inside, holding her hips, then lower, down the curve of her ass, sliding the pants and her panties down and off. She stepped out of them and lifted her shirt over her head. He ran his hands slowly up her back to the strap of her bra and unhooked it, letting it fall to his lap.
Reaching down, she tossed the bra aside and began fumbling for his belt buckle. He guided her hands to it, off to one side, and she undid it then pulled it free from its loops. Then the button. He raised his hips so she could unzip him and tug his jeans and shorts down to his knees. He kicked them off and reached up to grasp her ass again, pulling her to him. She hovered over him for a moment, then descended, bringing the head of his cock to the opening of her pussy and moving against it, wetting it, testing it. Oh God, that felt good!
He raised his hands to her breasts and fondled them, manipulating the hard nipples until she arched her back into his touch and made small, delirious sounds.
“Now?” he asked hoarsely. He was throbbing, aching to thrust, holding himself back by sheer force of will.
“Now, yes, oh, god, do it now!” She tossed her head back, her long hair brushing the tops of his thighs, and he slid his hands down to cradle her hips. With one smooth, rapid motion, he brought her down onto his dick, plunging deep into her slick, tight heat. She gasped and pushed back, her legs spread wide off to either side.
.He gripped her firmly and raised her up, bringing himself to the very edge of her, his swollen head almost slipping out, her cunt holding him in a tight embrace, then pulled her back down until their pubes slammed together. Up then down, up and down, she letting him move her, groaning and gasping, her hands going to his neck, his throat, his arms, his chest.
They went on like that, first slow, then faster, until their skin glistened with sweat and their breath came harsh and irregular. Until her juices coated them both and their thighs and groins slid together like well-oiled gears.
He felt himself tensing, his balls tightening, about to empty their load, and drove her down even harder, himself even deeper. She cried out, and began throbbing around him, constricting and releasing spasmodically. He would not have imagined her pussy could have felt any better sliding over his cock, but suddenly it did, unbearably so!
He came hard, moaning deep and long, pumping his hips, holding her to him with strong but trembling arms.
“Oh, that was wonderful,” she said, when she found the breath to speak. She was still astride him, her head on his chest, her hand rubbing his arm. “I knew it would be, the way you looked at me.”
He sighed and ran his hand up her back to the nape of her neck. “God, Jane, it was fucking fantastic.” He pulled her down to kiss her, already feeling himself respond, wanting her again.
“We’d better get dressed. It’s late.” She pulled away, standing, gathering up her clothes. “I think we have time for one more cigarette if you want.”
He did, and they shared it after they’d dressed.
Suddenly, the door opened and the photographer came in, wrinkling his nose and frowning. “You’re not supposed to smoke in here, you know.”
“I’m sorry, “ Johnny said, looking properly ashamed of himself. “Jane told me that, but I did anyway. I’m a bad boy.” He caught Jane’s eye and saw she was trying not to laugh.
“Shame on you,” he said, trying to look stern and disapproving. “Taking advantage of poor, shy little Jane here.” To her he added, “You really must be more assertive with these guys, dear. Don’t let them push you around.”
“I’ll try to remember that, sir,” she demurred, glancing at Johnny and smiling. This time, she didn’t blush.
- 1
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The Photo Shoot