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Confessions of a Sexaholic	By : AchtungNight Category: Celebrities - Misc > FemSlash - Female/Female Views: 643 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I have no connections to the celebrities depicted in this story other than fandom. I did not write this fictional story for financial profit.

Chapter List
- 1-Confessions of a Sexaholic
- 1
Confessions of a Sexaholic
by AchtungNight
Disclaimer: This is an adult story, so please do not read it if you are under age 18 or such material is prohibited in your area. This tale is fictional and the product of my imagination. The celebrity characters are impersonated- poorly. They do not act like this in real life as far as I, the author, know. I have no connection to any real life celebrities other than being their fan. I did not write this for financial profit. Feedback is appreciated. Enjoy.
Los Angeles, California. February 2009.
"People think it's tough to play a bipolar nympho, but I just played myself!"
Several years ago, I said that in an award acceptance speech. There are those who still think I was kidding today. It was the truth, however. It wasn't a joke. I really am a bipolar sex maniac. Those who know appreciate it, for the most part.
I need to introduce myself, don't I? The name's Isla Fisher. Occupation: actress, comedian, all around spreader of good humor. I'm thirty-three, a few inches over five feet tall, shapely in figure, clear complexion, long dark red hair. You may recognize my face from all the movies and TV shows in which I've starred.
I started acting when I was a teenager, growing up in Australia. My first big role was on the TV drama "Home & Away", a very popular soap opera. Fans often suspect that such shows have just as much intrigue off screen as they do on. In this case, they're right. Day-to-day life on the set was full of people dating, shagging each other, and in some cases, stabbing each other in the back. I did my share of these things. Back then I was a quiet girl, often overlooked by my peers. I got into acting because it seemed like a fun way to drop that image. On stage, I could become the person I longed to be in real life, but wasn't. Soon my screen and real personas merged.
I learned to express emotion, capture attention, and command my audience's applause. What I didn't know, my co-stars taught me. They also introduced me to the secret world behind acting. There were some things about that world I didn't care for, but one I did like was the sex.
Men and women both desired me. I wanted them in return. I had heard about sex before, and now I could enjoy it regularly. I became addicted before I could stop myself. I can guess what you're about to say. Don't believe the hype. Sexual addiction does not have to be a negative thing.
The way to make it positive is to take responsibility for your issues. Fix them. Don't want to get pregnant? Use birth control. Worried about disease? Keep yourself healthy and motivate your partners to follow along. Put your time on a budget so that you can relax. Do the same with your money and energy. Make your expectations clear to yourself and your partners up front. If they air their expectations, you should pay attention.
By far the biggest sex-related problem is insecurity. People don't know what they want, get dumb ideas, and wind up doing things that only make them more miserable. I had my fill of that a long time ago. Today I avoid it by keeping an open mind and researching my partners before I bed them. I spend time with them outside the bedroom and discern what makes them tick. We're friends first, and then if it seems right, we become lovers. I recognize relationships that might become traps and avoid them. I am usually successful in this. There's one case in particular.
Sasha Baron Cohen is my fiancée. He's familiar with my needs, my condition. He's also one of the most charming and handsome people I have ever met. We fulfill each other in every way possible. I plan to make sure our children know this, and that finding such a relationship is well worth the journey. Sasha and I will show them how to acquire one, as best we can.
I retain many other great lovers in addition to Sasha. I still see some of my old soap opera friends now and then. They've all moved on to different shows, but we stay in touch. There are newer companions too. The film for which I got the award was "Wedding Crashers". Vince Vaughn and Owen Wilson, the male leads, double-teamed me on several occasions during and after filming. I got with them each singly a few times as well.
I also lusted after my fellow female lead, Rachel McAdams. However, I didn't pursue her. She was shy and totally into her then-lover Ryan Gosling. We chatted one evening, and she professed that she was frightened to make love with anyone besides him. I accepted that and decided not to press Rachel. I fooled her into thinking I had similar inhibitions, and that I was nothing like the character I played in our film. I fantasized often about throwing caution away and telling her the truth.
A year after our film premiered, Rachel lost her lesbian virginity in a threesome with Keira Knightley and Scarlett Johansson while posing nude for Vanity Fair. I was very disappointed for the chance I did not take.
Things worked out. Keira and I had mutual connections. She clued Rachel in about me and we reunited, then we made up our lost time. It was beautiful. I only wish we had done it sooner.
Recently I released another film, "Confessions of a Shopaholic". I played Becky Bloomwood, a woman who got herself in deep trouble with credit card debt. You might think the plot inappropriate to our troubled economy. I considered it a cautionary wake-up call. If Becky had taken more responsibility for her problem, she might have avoided her predicament. It was good she was able to overcome her mistakes. May we all find such capacity in ourselves.
I befriended my male co-star during the film, Hugh Dancy. He's a gentleman in public, a freak in private — the perfect man. Kristyn Ritter played my best buddy, and we became even closer off camera than we were on. In addition, I wanted a third cast-mate, but I was too apprehensive to approach her.
You want to know my secret shame? I've never conquered anyone. Every lover I've had has come on to me and scored in the initial encounter. The times after that don't count. I welcome the attention, obviously, but I still hope to initiate things one day with somebody. If only to confirm to myself I have the courage. I get apprehensive, though. Some of my relationships have turned bad on me. I don't want to add to their number. Fear held me back with Rachel, as it had with others before. Here it did so again.
Leslie Bibb intimidated me from the moment I saw her. Ever meet a person you're so attracted to it hurts? You want to kill them or throw yourself at them, you can't decide which. Sasha was drawn to me like that. It pleased me when I found out. The rarest coals make the warmest fires. I felt such a spark for Leslie, but I didn't dare ignite anything with her. When we met, she gave me this terrible unsettling glare. In that instant, I got the feeling we would never see eye to eye.
The script had our characters hating each other. During all the weeks of rehearsals and filming, it seemed Leslie wanted to make that spite extend offstage. Every day she mocked and snarled at me. She reversed her emotions once we were done, showered me with warm words and smiles. It was too late. I didn't know what to think about her, and the longing I felt made things worse. I decided it was best to complete the project, let her slip away. I didn't have to be with her. Some relationships you just know won't end well.
Even at this moment, standing on her doorstep, I have a premonition of doom.
I could not forget Leslie after we finished "Confessions". I saw her at several parties, across crowded rooms. My desire for her remained strong. I ignored it, especially in the brief conversations we exchanged. That only made it grow. She did not sneer or snap, and I got strained, wondering when she would. I got hysterical about the possibilities. Or was something else on her mind? Sasha suggested to me that might be the case last week.
"You should go to her," he said. "Profess your intentions, see what happens. The worst she can do is decline."
"Wrong. The worst she can do is spread the word about me to the tabloids, or the uptight casting agents in our industry."
"I don't think Leslie's the sort who would do that. You shouldn't worry about it anyway. If anyone does such a thing, it can be smoothed over. It's been done before." He touched my chin. "Step up to the plate and swing, Isla. If you don't, you will always worry what might have been. That is the worst torture. You should ensure you do not suffer it. I will be here for you regardless of what happens, my love."
Sasha says the sweetest things.
He's waiting for me at home right now. Kristyn is at the Starbucks around the corner. She's my escape, should I need one. I am at Leslie's door, taking Sasha's dare. My past flashes before my eyes as I ring the bell and hear approaching footsteps. I have stood on this threshold a brief span of seconds. It feels like forever.
Leslie reaches the portal and opens it. She is a tanned blonde vixen, six feet in height with impossibly long firm legs. Not a very well known celebrity, but nevertheless one of the most compelling personalities I have ever come across. Can I really ask her to enfold me in her muscular body, allow me to stoke her to ecstasy and return every caress in kind?
Her blue eyes blink in surprise, then an odd knowing smile forms on her lips.
"Isla, what are you doing here?"
I inhale, subduing my rush of emotions. "I need to speak with you in private. May I come in?"
"Certainly," Leslie ushers me past her door. "Is this about the film? It's been out for two weeks."
"I know." The box office take was moderate, reviews ranging from moderate to bad, about what I had expected. Most of the viewers liked the movie, so did I, and that was enough for me.
"Not the film. Okay. Care for some tea?"
"Sure." I look around her living room while she brews the chamomile. The apartment is clean and organized well. I sit on the tan felt couch and try to gather my thoughts. After a few minutes, Leslie seats herself next to me and offers a cup of warm liquid. I accept and savor the sweet taste.
"How is Borat?" She likes to call Sasha by the name of his most notorious comic persona. The reference helps me recall his recommendations about this visit.
"Sasha's fine. He sends his regards. I have to settle something with you. The way you treated me while we making our movie."
Leslie blushes. "I never apologized for that. I should have. It's my way of becoming my characters. I carry their emotions into real life."
"I thought it might be that." I release a breath.
"That's not all, though," Leslie adds. Her speech is rushed. "I like you. I think you're pretty and talented. I didn't want us to get close, though. It would mess up with our character chemistry."
"Forget our characters," I reply. "It's just you and me now." This isn't turning out the way I had feared. It's not any easier, though. Leslie's unpredictable. I am not skilled in manipulating women. I try to picture her as a character in a book or script. How would she react if I were writing or playing her?
She moves the conversation ahead while I think. "If you're here to mend things between us, it's cool. I kept hoping for that, every time I saw you since we wrapped our scenes. You never took the bait."
"I was confused about what you wanted from me. My bad."
"Mine too." Leslie laughs and puts her tea down on the room's table. I rest my cup next to hers after finishing the contents.
"So you want to be friends now?"
She grins. "I want us to be friends, because we can be. No more Becky and Alicia envying each other. Isla and Leslie can hang out together fine, right?"
"Of course," I say, flustered by her anticipating my case.
"Great! By the way, the gossip about your reputation, is it true?"
Now I'm really startled. "What do you mean?"
"You're a proud slut. I heard the rumors and when I met you, I sensed it. We can smell our own."
"Huh?" I am of course familiar with such a phenomenon, but I was not prepared to hear it from Leslie.
My fellow actress smirks, then leans over and squeezes my right knee. She whispers in my ear, "Am I coming on too strong?"
"Yes," I blurt out, "but it's okay. Did someone tell you I wanted this?"
"Kristyn. She and I weren't supposed to know each other in the film, so there was no barrier. I have a record of wooing my female co-stars. I scored Carly Pope in 'Popular', Gwyneth Paltrow in 'Iron Man', a few others. I get a lot of men too, but women are more fun. Their expressions when I make my move are the best. Look at yourself."
I check the mirror on the far wall and giggle. My face is red with shock and pleasure. I fall back into the couch. "Damn. I was planning to start things."
"Would you like to reset?"
I shrug. "Nah, that's okay. I'll take this." I cuddle Leslie and hug her body to mine. "Kristyn's destined for punishment."
"Hold off on that for a while. I told her I wanted to have my way with you alone before she joined in."
My heart leaps at her promises. I turn my head and kiss Leslie's lips. Our fingers dance across each other's necks and shoulders. Her mouth tastes of honey, tender and inviting. I meet the stab of her tongue with my own.
We disrobe in a frenzy, undoing buttons and tossing away clothes. Shirts, skirts and shoes disappear. Next, we unsnap each other's bras and ogle the orbs beneath them. Leslie's body has no white spots or lines, it's completely tanned. My own flesh is a mix of pale and tan, with a light dusting of freckles. We drop our panties last. A trimmed stripe of blonde hair adorns her crotch. A cloud of red curls surrounds mine, matching those on my head.
Leslie and l let our gazes roam over each other's bodies. Our fingers move in, noting and fondling curves. My nipples harden quickly in her palms. Hers were erect already. Temperatures rise, heartbeats build. The smell of her arousal floods my senses. I pull away, take a breath, and stand up to get things under control.
"Can we go to the bedroom?"
"Over there." Leslie points the way and beams.
I can feel her at my back as I head down the hall. Her queen-size is bed is unmade, white sheets tangled with invitation. I collapse onto it with Leslie, and soon we're making out again. Her breath flows hard into me, matched by my relieved laughter. Leslie's hands are all over me. They caress my hips, breasts, rear, legs, arms, face, and over again. My hands travel similar paths on her body. We settle beside one another, tracing spirals on one another's stomachs.
"Oh, I've wanted to do this for so long," Leslie says.
She rolls on top of me, kisses my lips. Her mouth then begins a voyage down my torso, buffing my tits while en route to my snatch. Leslie's fingers enter me first, two and then three. They stroke my vulva, grab and pinch my clit. I hiss and exhale, quivering as her tongue reinforces the assault.
The moment is overwhelming. I take in the feel and smell of Leslie, the sight of her between my legs, her eyes on me when I chuckle and moan. Her fingers and tongue keep moving inside my inner folds. My essence flows out strong, and Leslie guzzles it down. She puts her off hand on my thigh, holding me in place. The fantasies I've had about this are nothing compared to the reality.
My spirit takes flight under her ministrations. I mumble sweet nothings when my climax arrives, and rub Leslie's hair as she swallows the fruits. She moves her face back up to mine, presses our lips together. I can taste my cheery nectar on her mouth and cheeks.
I squeeze Leslie to me and turn her over, then crawl into a new position. I buff her body the way she kissed mine, returning the favor. Her nipples are hard spears against my flesh, and warm honey streams from her cunt. I live for times like this, the most treasured experiences of my life. I absorb the sight of my beautiful charismatic friend creating pleasure in me and getting turned on with the effects. We glory as we trade magic.
Soon I am inside Leslie with my questing fingers and tongue. I tickle her loins and absorb the effects of my efforts. Leslie is quiet as she comes, but her smiles and body language speak a thousand wonderful praises. I will never get tired of such sights.
Leslie cradles my head between her thighs, strokes my hair while I carry her to nirvana. I reflect on the past lovers she mentioned, their conflicts with her characters. Did they play out the way ours have?
"You trashy tramp, Leslie," I hiss at her. "Self-absorbed mischief maker, I have you in my power. You cannot escape."
"Why would I want to?" she replies with a sigh.
I return my lips to hers and feel her body throb, as she tastes herself in my kiss. "Can I call Kristyn now?" I feel like adding a brunette to this blonde-redhead mix.
"Not yet," Leslie answers. She places her hand on my chest. "I want you one more way first."
She laps my mouth and then pushes me down into the mattress. Her left hand reaches under a pillow and produces a carved wooden phallus with two heads. Leslie rubs this object across my body, coaxing my nerves. Eventually she places it at the juncture of my thighs, presses one of the heads into herself and the other into me. Leslie establishes a rhythm of hunching forward, pulling back, and then pushing her cock home again. I tighten myself around the dildo. She kisses me between thrusts, and we trade breaths.
Her body matches mine in feel. I caress the taut nipples and soft legs. The muscles of her back quiver at my touch. I too am shaking while she fondles me, as her shaft rolls our insides. Ecstatic moments flash through our perception. We reach our next peak together. A cough interrupts our trade of smiles when we return to earth.
"I got bored waiting outside," Kristyn tells us. She stands beside the bed, naked with a hand on her hip. "Sasha's en route. He wanted in on this too. Are you guys ready for me?"
"We're happy to see you." I separate from Leslie and watch as Kristyn takes my place on the dildo. I caress them both while they move together, sharing their laughter and cries. Their silken fingers reach out to return my touches. Sex is such a wonderful, incredible addiction. How anyone could ever overdose on it is beyond me. I suppose I could understand if it was bad, but to me it's always been good. Oh, so good.
The End
- 1
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Confessions of a Sexaholic

Confessions of a Sexaholic

by AchtungNight

The End