He was upset. And, trust me, he very seldom got upset. He wanted to talk, complain and rant about how he would have been the best Batman the franchise ever had...if they had given him the opportunity. He was drinking in the hotel bar that was nearly empty on this weekday in the afternoon in Burbank. He trusted me to keep his secrets and I felt guilty that I kept his drinks coming while I nursed a white wine spritzer. He was not expecting me, a married woman, to come on to him when he called me to join him for a drink and a rant. I had been drawn to him from the first time I met him at a fund-raiser with my husband who was, is, a Hollywood movie director. He felt I was sympatico since we shared a lot of the same spiritual teachings. We had talked several times about being in show business and having deeply held spiritual beliefs, and the conflicts. Being older than him, by 14 years, and married, I guess he let his defenses down.
He was very drunk and I told him he could not possibly take his motorcycle home. I suggested a room at the hotel to sleep it off and I arranged it at the desk. Back at the bar he was face down on the table as I took his arm to get him up to his room. He was a very charming drunk, but very heavy. I guided him to the room, opened the door with the card key and plopped him down on the couch. His head rolled back. I could have left him there but part of me was concerned about him and the other, and much bigger part of me, was desiring him and seeing an opportunity. A one off that could never happen again but would be a sweet memory to keep me warm throughout my life that was not the easiest with a Hollywood director. Not complaining. It was my choice, but still...
I helped him out of his jacket and he seemed okay with that. I untied his boots and pulled each one off and he appreciated the help. Saying thanks in a drunken half closed eyes kind of a way. Then I got into fantasy territory and unbuttoned his jeans grazing his genitals with my fingers. He was wearing no briefs. He opened his eyes a little wider with the realization of what was happening. He seemed to lift up a bit and I was able to pull his ripped jeans to his ankles. I saw this as consent and I dropped to my knees taking him into my mouth like holy communion, my eyes daring to look up at him. His eyes were pure pools of amber honey and not resisting. He grew hard very quickly and I dropped a little lower to lavish his gonads with my tongue. Breathing him in at his most private parts I was overjoyed that he did not wax and was uncircumcised. It is not something to brag about but I was skilled and worked his hardness with my mouth that had him groaning almost as loudly as I was groaning. He came with a few short spasmotic bursts and I swallowed and held him gently in my mouth until he got soft again. I stood up and pulled his jeans from around his ankles and layed them out on a chair where his boots and jacket were. He was still pretty drunk when I lifted his legs onto the couch making sure he was on his side. With his head on a pillow I covered him with a blanket and placed the garbage can in front of the couch near his head in case he needed to throw up and he was going to need to do that sooner or later. I put 2 bottles of spring water near him and went about making a quick exit. I wasn't even going to say anything when he croaked out a few words that sounded like goodbye and thankyou.
I called around midnight and he said he was sobering up and thanks for the sympathy sex with a little laugh. I said it was all my pleasure... and that would never happen again and he agreed that would be best. Now, many years later, when my world gets too crazy in hollywood or I see him on the big screen I remember my Keanu encounter and it is a sweet sweet memory.