JOA: Damon’s Chronicles – Chapter 4: Tyra Banks

This story is a spin off of the successful and wildly popular “Journal of an Agent” by Carnage Jackson. At the end of Carnage’s story, the main character, Dean Simonds, faces a major dilemma, where he has to choose between staying in Hollywood with Alyssa Milano, or heading back east with Natalie Portman. Please note that this might not necessarily have been the ending Carnage had in mind, but is my own interpretation.

I hope you all like this series, and all feedback is welcome at To the readers of my other series, “Dangerously in Love”, I have no intention of ending that series anytime soon.
I would like to thank Carnage Jackson for not only letting me use his characters and set-up, but for his constructive suggestions and criticism.

If you are over 18, please refrain from reading this. To the rest of you, note that this story is completely fictional, and all similarities to real life people and occurrences are strictly coincidental.


It had been a very shitty couple of days since Christmas Eve, and I was thisclose to passing out due to frustration. My respect for the two Simonds men reached new heights after I realized that they had to go through this for so long. While Christmas season was the time of the year when people relaxed, families got together, and everybody had so much fun, the reverse seemed to be the case for agents. Not only did the stars expect us to do their bidding as usual, they even seemed to get out of hand more often than usual during this period, and naturally expected us to be at their beck and call.

I had returned to the office on the night of Christmas Eve after my tryst with Andie, and pleased that the entire office was deserted, I settled to do a little more work, but I had hardly begun when I began to receive a barrage of phone calls. The stars were out partying as usual, and so many of them had gotten themselves into trouble with the law, and I had to go and bail them all out of trouble. At around 5 a.m. on Christmas morning, after bailing an ungrateful Shannon Doherty from a nightclub spat, I managed to get home and sleep through the entire morning. In my opinion, Dean had pampered these spoilt brats, and they had gotten used to their agent waiting on them hand-and-foot. If it were up to me, I would have handled them with an iron fist, since baby-sitting was not in my contract, but I did not want to screw up Dean’s legacy.

Later that day, I went over to Mama’s place and enjoyed a very sumptuous Christmas dinner with my whole family. Several of my cousins had come from New York, and it was really nice to see everyone. My younger sister even announced that she was getting moving in with some white dude, and though it did not go too well with everyone in the family, Mama was her usual understanding self and encouraged Beverly (my sister) to go ahead with it as long as it made her happy.

Naturally, everyone was interested in me and wanted to hear all the details of my interaction with all the stars. I was not so keen to talk about work, but they were so eager that I had to describe to Aunt Brenda what Denzel looked like up close, and tell my little nephews some details from the upcoming Matrix movies I had been able to wrangle out of Keanu (and swear them to secrecy). I couldn’t even fight off Cousin Jerry, who was begging me all evening to give his demo tape to Dr. Dre. All in all, it was a good evening, and it felt really good to be around loving family, and not bitchy actresses or egotistical actors. We all opened our presents (and I cursed myself for forgetting to open Ashley’s gift earlier in the day) and sat round the Christmas tree singing carols. I had to work the next day, so I left about midnight, and got stopped by a cop for speeding.

The next day at work was rather uneventful. I had given Ashley the day off, so I had to do most of the work by myself. I think I made quite a bit of progress with my end-of-the-year accounting, and managed to successfully place some orders for some high tech equipment to replace the archaic stuff we’d been using since Dean’s era. I had a few actors come in to renegotiate their deals, but all in all, the day passed without much ado.

On the 27th of December, two days after Christmas, I was in the office as usual, working my ass off, when Ashley knocked on my door, and I called for her to come in. She appeared to have had a makeover during Christmas, as she looked almost stunning. Her blonde hair was all nice and straightened out, and she was wearing this tight pink dress. I almost did a double take when I glanced at her, causing her to smile demurely.

“Thanks for the bag, Damon” she said, still smiling

“I hope you liked it”, I said, quickly adding, “I’ve been really busy, so I haven’t had time to open any presents. I am so sorry”.

Her face fell when I said this, but she brightened up almost immediately, and almost looked relieved

“I’m sure I will love whatever it is you give me”, I added

“Thanks”, she said, “well, there’s someone here to see you”

“Who is it?”, I asked, not really eager to meet anybody at present

“He refused to give me a name, he says he’s a relative of yours”, she said

I assumed it must be one of my cousins or something, so I asked Ashley to let him in. She nodded and left, and about a minute later, I heard a loud knock on my door.

“Come in”, I yelled

I had only seen him once in my life, and that was almost 25 years ago, but I immediately recognized the large black man who stood at the door as it opened. Intense anger prevented me from showing my utter shock at seeing him. What the fuck did he want?

“Merry Christmas Damon Junior”, he said with a smile, revealing a few gold teeth

“How may I help you?”, I asked without betraying any emotion

“Come on son, you might at least call me Dad”, he said, coming into the office and shutting the door behind him

“Once again, how may I help you?”, I asked firmly

“Can’t a dad come and say hello to his little boy?”, he asked, looking hurt

“You are not my dad and I am not your little boy, so tell me what you want before I call security to escort you out”, I bellowed with anger

“Take it easy, I just came to tell you how proud I am of you, Mr. Hotshot Agent”, he said, sitting down

“I did not ask you to sit down”, I said, though I knew that would not make him get up, “I need you to leave. I don’t need you, I became everything I am without you, and I do not need you now that I am big”

“I will not be spoken to like that”, he said in a surge of anger that eerily reminded me of myself whenever I got angry, “I am your father”

I sat down and stared at the man who was sitting across me, the man whose blood I shared, the man I hardly knew. I was a spitting image of him physically, although he obviously looked like he was well into his 60’s. I wanted to scream at him, tell him how much I hated him, but I knew it would be a lie as I knew that I was incapable of hating him. We stared at each other in silence as I flashed back to my childhood days, to the numerous times when I cried and cried because I so wanted to know this man who sat right in front of me.

Having a father-figure would have been so helpful as a kid, growing up in the hood. Being picked on by neighborhood bullies, withstanding the temptation to give in to peer pressure and experiment with drugs and crime, even in college when I got injured and it seemed like my entire world was crumbling, where was the asshole when I needed him? I had seen him only once in my life, when I was six years old. Without Mama’s knowledge, I went looking for him after figuring out his identity from my birth certificate.

I remember knocking on the door of his apartment with trepidation. It was a dilapidated and scary-looking building, and I clearly had no business being there all by myself. I knew Mama would give me a major ass-whooping if she found out, but even then, it would be worth it if I got to meet my Daddy. Full of beans, I continued to knock as hard as I could, until I heard a deep and raspy voice usher me in.

I opened the door, and was immediately blinded by smoke. I did not know what kind of smoke it was, but I did not care. I coughed a little and looked closer, and saw on the couch a man whom I immediately knew had to be my dad, flanked by two female companions, who were totally naked. My father was topless, but was thankfully wearing a pair of shorts. My heart swelled with excitement as I whispered, “Are you Mr. Damon Bradley?”

“Yes kid”, he replied, “what do you want?”

“I think you are my Daddy”, I said breathlessly

He looked rather bewildered for a few moments, and was obviously a bit taken aback. Eyeing me up and down, he asked me who I was

“My name is Damon”, I said excitedly, “Damon Brill”

“Oh, Lisa’s son”, he inquired, looking wary

“Yes”, I said, “her name is Lisa Brill, and she is my mom. I think she named me after you”

“Look boy”, he said, lazily stretching his body while still seated on the beat-up sofa, “I don’t know what that bitch told you, but I don’t have a son”

“But look”, I said, pulling out a piece of paper from my pocket, “this paper says that my Daddy is Mr. Damon Bradley. That’s you”

He suddenly got up, almost looking venomous, and walked towards me as if he was going to attack me. I walked backwards towards the door, looking scared, and totally unable to believe what was going on. I had been anticipating a triumphant homecoming, with my dad happy to see his long lost son and giving me hugs and kisses, but staring into his bloodshot eyes, I could see that was the case

“Tell your mom”, he barked, “never to send you here again”

Without saying a word, I tearfully backed out of the door and ran all the way down the dark stairwell outside, and for the ten blocks till I got to our house. I never forgot that incident, even though I never once mentioned it to Mama or any of my sisters. I had never set eyes on him since that day, and looking across the table at him, I pictured the angry man with the bloodshot eyes fiercely walking towards me as he was going to attack me

“I am not going to ask you this again”, I said firmly, “how may I help you?”

“Son”, he said, “I’m sorry I was not there for you when you were younger, but its not too late”

“It is too late”, I cried, my voice rising, “where were you when I needed a father, when I got beat up at school, when Mama’s boyfriends were mean to us, my high school football games, my graduation? I bet you didn’t know that I was homecoming king in high school, or that I suffered a devastating injury that stopped me from playing football. Where were you then?”

“I am not going to pretend I was a good father”, he said, “but I want to start now”

“I don’t have a father”, I bellowed, “I’ve never had a father, and I never will. You are just some guy my mother named me after”

“Damon my boy”, he pleaded, “just hear me out”

“What do you have to say for yourself?”, I demanded, “before I have security throw you out”

“I am really proud that you have made something of yourself”, he said, “I don’t want your money or anything, I just want to get to know my son”

“You are twenty-eight years too late for that”, I whispered, “Please leave immediately”.

Without saying a word, he stood up and strode resplendently out of the room. I watched him leave, wondering if I had been too harsh, whether I should have given him a chance. I hoped that was the last I would ever see of him. I had heard of so many people who, after they had made it big, their fathers came back crawling. I guess I was in that category now. 2Pac’s words from his hit song “Dear Mama” resonated in my head

“No love for my Daddy cos’ the coward wasn’t there, he passed away and I didn’t cry, cos my anger wouldn’t let me feel for a stranger. They say I’m young and I’m heartless, but all along I was looking for a father he was gone”.

Maybe I should have given him a chance, I thought to myself. What if the man was for real and had changed his ways? This was another similarity between myself and Dean, I thought to myself, not having grown up with a father. At least his old man had been gracious enough to leave him this establishment before he croaked. My own father had not even been involved with my life, had not contributed to anything, and I had to get everything I owned on my own. I was so lost in thought that I did not notice that Ashley had entered the room and was standing by my side

“Are you alright, Damon?”, she asked, touching the top of my head

“I’m great Ashley”, I replied, ‘thanks for asking”

“I couldn’t help overhearing some of your conversation with your father…”

“He’s not my father”, I snapped, interrupting her. We were both silent for a few moments before I profusely apologized

“I don’t know what came over me Ashley”, I said, pulling her onto my lap, “I’m sorry for yelling at you”

“I understand”, she said with a smile, “Just know that if you ever need to talk, I’m always here”

“I hate that bastard”, I suddenly said, clenching my fists together, “I hate him, I hate him”

“Don’t let him affect you”, she said, stroking my neck while still sitting on my lap, “Look at you, you got everything in life by yourself. You’ve made it this far without him”

“Thanks Ashley”, I said, smiling at her.

As our eyes met, I suddenly sensed desire, though I did not know if it was coming from me or from her. Nonetheless, I could not take my eyes away from hers, and as our faces moved closer together, a kiss seemed inevitable. Every sense in me screamed at me, asking me what I was doing, but I did not seem to be able to stop. I knew I had no business kissing her, not only was I her boss, but we were good friends, and I considered myself like a big brother to her. She was still a teenager, how could I be doing this? We were merely inches away, and she smelt heavenly. I looked questioningly in her eyes, and could see deep desire. I decided to damn the consequences and just go ahead, and just as our lips were about to meet, I heard my cell phone ring.

“Saved by the bell”, I thought as I immediately sprang away. As I reached for my phone, I suddenly came to my senses, and thanked heaven that I did not go ahead with what I was about to do. The consequences would have been too adverse, and a vulnerable young girl’s heart would have been on the line.

I answered the phone, and the call turned out to be from Kweisi Mfume, the President of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP). He was calling to remind me about the NAACP annual end of year dinner which was taking place that evening, where I was to be one of the honorees. Needless to say, my appointment as head of Shooting Star had caused a lot of jubilation in the black community, as it was rare for a black man or woman to be in such a position in Hollywood. In fact, I still felt a little guilty that I had not used my position to the benefit of black actors as much as a lot of people felt I should. It was not my fault though, there was just a dearth of good roles for actors of color, and as my good friend Vivica Fox always said, Hollywood was the only place on earth where people could refuse to employ based on race, and one could not sue for discrimination. How many times had I called a leading director to lobby for a role for a black actor or actress, and was greeted wit h a phrase like “Sorry, but we really don’t want to go black for that role”.

In any case, I was still one of the guests of honor at the gala, alongside other reputable black people in the country. I promised Mr. Mfume that I would be at the occasion promptly, and hung up. Ashley had already left the office, no doubt feeling embarrassed by what had almost transpired between us. As I returned to my work, I promised never to let myself fall into that kind of situation ever again.

I arrived at the Sheraton Hotel, where the function was taking place, shortly after 9 p.m. I realized a few hours before that I was supposed to show up with a date, and since there was no way I could get anyone to come on short notice, I decided to take my youngest sister, 20 year old Erica. She had been ecstatic when I asked her to accompany me, and let me know before hand that she would desert me as soon as she saw Taye Diggs, whom she absolutely adored.

“Taye’s married”, I said to her in horror

“He’s going to leave that hoochie as soon as he sees me”, she joked as we exited our limousine and walked into the hotel.

I had been scared that I came late, but as soon as we stepped in, I realized that there was still had ample time, as the event was nowhere near commencement. As I hung around the lobby, making idle chitchat with some other people whom I was familiar with. Erica had gone into hysterics when she spotted so many famous people just milling around, and had threatened to twist my arm if I did not introduce her to Oprah. I had done so, and was talking with Michael Jordan at a corner of the lobby when the room suddenly got much brighter. Beyonce Knowles had just walked in, looking stunning in a bright red dress with slits at the side. My heart slipped a few beats, and I quickly excused myself from Michael as I prepared to go and talk to her.

I had been attracted to Beyonce for such a long time, ever since I first saw her in a Destiny’s Child video several years ago. She was so beautiful, and belied maturity and elegance beyond her years. I remember clearly the first time I ever laid eyes on her. She was a client of the firm, and had secured the female lead in the third installment of Austin Powers shortly before I joined the firm. It was a sunny afternoon in the summer of 2002, the week before the movie opened in theaters, and she came into the office to discuss some issues with Dean. I do not think I have ever been more embarrassed than I was that day.

My friend had sent me some lewd images in some email attachment, and since my workload was rather light that day, I was at my computer giggling at the naked chicks, and my hand coincidentally happened to be on my crotch area.

“It sure seems like you’re having fun there”, I heard a female voice say behind me.

I turned around, and there stood Beyonce, looking as cute as ever in a white T-shirt and blue jeans shorts. She looked so adorable despite the fact that she did not have any make-up on, and she was currently looking amused, having caught me looking at porn. I immediately stood up, and tried to explain the situation, but she did not look disgusted, only amused. I bemoaned my bad luck that the girl I had fancied for so long had to catch me in such an awkward situation. Well, I never would have had a snowball’s chance in hell with her anyways. Wait a minute, I was actually screwing Halle Berry back then, so I had to count for something, but Beyonce was so beautiful, so divine, that she would not even glance at scum like me twice. She had been linked with so many people on the tabloids, and I always wondered how much of those were true. I always felt like someone had plunged a dagger in my heart when I read the latest story linking her with another rapper or sports player.

I had of course met her a few times after becoming head of Shooting Star. The success of Goldmember had spurred her to want to take a career in acting seriously, so she came in a few times. We talked cordially, though I was always so self-conscious because I was convinced she had not forgotten her first ever impression of me. However, this evening, seeing her walk into the hotel lobby flanked by two other girls, whom I later recognized to be Kelly and Michelle, her band mates (funny how two otherwise stunning women can fade into the background when a beacon of light walks amidst them), I was determined to go and say something to her. I thanked my stars as she walked away from her two friends and headed in another direction. I quickened my pace as I walked towards her, thinking of something to say. Come on, I was her agent, I was being honored by the NAACP tonight, there were a million things I could possibly talk about. If things went well, I could ask her out, and possibly begin something. My mind was al ready exploring candlelit dates, romantic weekends in the Hamptons, and Beyonce in a white wedding dress, when I suddenly froze, perplexed, as she walked right into the arms of rapper Jay-Z, and they began to passionately make out right in the middle of the room.

Beyonce had actually been dating Shawn Carter, also known as Jay-Z, for several months now. I had not been too bothered when it started, but as it became more and more serious, I began to get concerned. Report after report came, that they were spotted together in the South of France, that they were moving in together, that they were engaged. A few of those of course turned out to be false, but enough were true to make me insanely jealous. He was 12 years older than her, what did she see in him that was so special? I really did not want to dislike Shawn (or Jay, or Jigga, or Hova, or any of his other one hundred or so monikers), because he was an absolutely nice guy in real life. He was unlike most of the other rappers – he hardly drank, he did not under any circumstances smoke weed or do drugs, he did not party excessively, and had a really good personality. I also admired him, as he was one of the most astute businessmen I had ever met. He had built such a fortune for himself, his Rocafella empire spread ing to encompass fashion, movies, and wine production. He hardly mingled with other rappers, and hung out with the likes of Donald Trump. He had even been the first ever rapper to be interviewed on “60 Minutes”.

Luckily, the event was starting, and still in a crappy mood, I entered the banquet hall alongside the other guests. I looked around for my sister, and saw her talking with some actor, so I decided to go and locate my seat. To my annoyance, I had been placed next to supermodel Tyra Banks. I had nothing against Tyra, I had hardly even met her, but I generally have an aversion against models. Once again, not due to any stereotypes, just a few really bad dating experiences I have had with them. They tended to be very egotistical and selfish people, and I hoped I wouldn’t have to converse too much with her.

The evening went on, a couple of speeches here and there, and a little bit of entertainment. Both to my relief and annoyance, Tyra seemed to totally ignore the fact that I was in the room, let alone next to her, she was totally in conversation with the person on the other side of her, while I talked idly with the man next to me, a former jazz singer or something. Eventually, my name was announced, and amid a torrent of applause, I had to go onstage to give my speech. My eyes caught Halle Berry’s as I walked towards the stage. There seemed to be a mixture of hatred and regret there, and I was a bit marveled as to how much I couldn’t care less. This was a woman with whom I had been involved for a year, and had shared some intimate moments, and she could be another stranger for all I cared. Assuring myself for the millionth time that I had done the right thing in ending things with her, I reached my destination and reached into my coat pocket for my speech, only to realize that it wasn’t there. Ashley was to have written it for me, and I should have collected it from her earlier in the day, but the incident between us had made us forget about it, and I cursed my bad luck, meaning I had to totally improvise a speech.

Luckily, I happen to be quite skilled at coming up with things on cue, so for a few minutes, I rambled as I made up some stuff up off the top of my head about how proud I was to be black. Convinced I had done a good job, I ended to moderate applause, and I made my way back to my seat. I was happy, both that I had managed not to make a fool of myself, and also that my seat seemed to be exactly as I had left it, except for one slight difference.

Tyra Banks was glaring at me with admiration and interest on her face as I approached my seat. I wondered if I was mistaken, she did not even acknowledge my presence before, and we hadn’t even talked all evening, except for the time we shook hands when we were introduced.

“Oh my God, I did not know you were the head of Shooting Star”, she said as I sat down

“Oh yeah, Damon Brill, nice to meet you”, I said coldly, looking at her

“I did not make the connection”, she said almost apologetically, “I was shocked when they announced your name and you got off. I have been sitting next to the biggest agent in Hollywood all evening and I didn’t even know it”

“Oh yeah, how unfortunate”, I said sarcastically

“I’m sure it’s not too late to make up for that”, she said with an evil smile, as she placed her hands on my thighs, totally taking me by surprise.

I did not know how to react, as she was coming on to me so directly. I was of course getting extremely turned on. I might dislike models in theory, but Tyra was one of the hottest models in the world, and I was not going to turn her down for the teeny fact that she was suddenly interested in me just because I happened to be somebody important. Most guys in America would have willingly given one of their balls to sleep with such a gorgeous model, and I wasn’t an exception. Well, I did not know where this was going, but I’d be interested in finding out. Her hand was sliding up now, and as it reached my crotch area and fiddled with my zipper, I suddenly had a concern

“What about Chris?”, I inquired, referring to Chris Webber, the Sacramento Kings forward who happened to be her fiancé.

“The Kings have an away game”, she simply said, signifying that we were in no danger of getting caught.

My zipper was undone now, and her hand had made its way underneath my boxer shorts, clasping my erect penis, and gently stroking it. I looked around to see if anyone was watching, but luckily, we seemed to be discreet enough to remain clandestine. Honestly, if anyone had seen, I doubt that I would have cared much. However, Tyra’s next words surprised me

“Let’s ditch this boring party and go to your place”, she whispered into my ear

“I can’t”, I protested feebly, “It’s not over yet, and it might be considered rude”

She replied by stroking my balls, and the surge of pleasure that rushed through me made me realize that I was defenseless, and was going to have to accede to her demand. I quickly agreed, and mildly excusing myself, I walked over to where my sister was seated.

“Hey Sis”, I said, as I reached her table, where she was seated next to Larenz Tate, a young actor whom I was quite friendly with, and whom, from the look of things, was familiarizing himself with my baby sister

“What’s up man”, I greeted him, before turning to my sister, “I’m going to have to leave now, so you don’t have to bother to look for me when this is over, just look for the limo and leave. And don’t come to my place, tell the driver to drop you off and go back to the office, understand?”

“It looks like someone’s getting lucky tonight”, Erica teased

“Yo man, your sister’s going home with me tonight”, joked Larenz

“You know I’ll break your bones, son” I joked back as I left the two of them alone, my brotherly instincts naturally getting me a bit annoyed, and hoping Larenz did not do anything with my sister.

I got back to Tyra, and we eventually walked out of the building in a hurry. The Rev. Jesse Jackson was in the middle of a speech while I left the room, and I was so positive that I was going to get an angry phone call from him the next day, but at that point, I couldn’t care. I was going to fuck the brains out of the lovely Tyra Banks, nothing else mattered.

“Nice place”, Tyra said, as we walked into my penthouse, which I had moved into shortly after breaking up with Halle.

“Thanks, I just got it”, I replied

“So where were we”, said Tyra, as walked towards me and began to kiss me.

The journey to my place had been in record time. It turned out Tyra had driven herself to the party in a Porsche, and since she had to drive, we could not do anything on the way back. But she was an insanely fast driver, and with a look of lust and desperation on her beautiful face, she cruised the streets at over 80 mph. I was a bit worried as it was just after 11 p.m., and there was still quite a bit of traffic, but I was distracted by her dress, which was spiked high up her legs, providing me with a more than generous view of her thighs. I was tempted to touch her, but I wanted to appear cool, so I laid back and suppressed my desire. Looking back, its rather strange that we did not utter a single word to each other during the duration of the trip.

Well, there we were kissing, as I ran my legs up her back. She was incredibly tall, almost 6 feet, and was one of the tallest, if not the tallest, women I had ever been with. Still standing up, we continued to kiss as we made our way to my bedroom. Her hands were busy, taking off my coat and throwing it on the floor, before unloosening my tie and doing the same. She was an incredibly great kisser, and our tongues were hard at work right now. My pants were still securely tightened, and my dick felt like it was going to burst out at any moment. I undid the zipper behind the black dress she was wearing, and let it gently fall to the floor. She was only in a pair of matching black Victoria’s Secret (duh) bra and panties, and all of sudden, I was the one who had more clothes on.

She remedied this situation by beginning to unbutton my white shirt, and as soon as she threw it on the floor, began to rub my back with her long and soft fingers. I moaned in delight as we continued to kiss. At this point, we were at the door of my room. My bed looked so large and inviting, and I could not wait to have my debut sexual action on it. I hardly ever slept there anyways, I usually crashed on the couch in front of my big screen TV, so my bed was still properly well made from the last time I had my cleaning lady come over a week before.

She pushed my onto the bed, and began to undo my belt as she knelt in front of me. The room was rather dark, as only a small lamp was on, and she looked really sexy as her chocolate skin glowed in the dim light. My pants came off, and my penis finally broke free after she gently removed my boxer shorts. She took the cock into her mouth began to suck. Her tongue gently massaged my cock as she continued to devour, causing me to moan with pleasure. I gasped as her talented mouth continued to fellate me

“Oh yes Tyra, suck me baby”, I continued to moan, until I heard the doorbell ring.

I cursed, and toyed with the idea of refusing to answer it, but I imagined it was quite important, for someone to come at such a late hour. Looking at my watch, I realized that it was not even midnight yet, but I decided to answer nonetheless. I reluctantly pulled Tyra away from my dick and told her I’d be back in a minute. She grumbled a little bit, and then lay back on my bed and began to masturbate. I was totally aroused watching this, but I had to tear myself away, especially as the person at the door was vigorously pressing the doorbell.

I reached the door and opened it, and there stood Ashley, my assistant, looking a little bit distressed, but cute as ever. Her long blonde hair was straightened out, and she was dressed in a red UCLA sweater (which I immediately looked upon with disdain, since I was a Trojan, and hated the Bruins) and black jeans. I was a little bit uncomfortable with her just dropping by like this, as I had female company.

“Ashley”, I said in surprise, “What are you doing here?”

“Sorry I didn’t call, but I just had to see you”, she said, coming in and closing the door, “I couldn’t sleep and I needed to talk”

“Talk?”, I asked, feeling apprehensive and scared, “About what?”

“Damon, I needed to talk about us. I don’t…”, she suddenly paused as she looked at the clothes on the floor, and for the first time, seemed to notice that I was only clad in boxer shorts, and began to stare at my well toned chest.

“How come you took all your clothes off on the floor?”, she asked, “You boys are so messy.

Her face suddenly fell as she saw the black dress that was on the floor, and suddenly realized that a woman was over. Guilt swept through me, even though I knew there was no reason for me to feel bad. At the worst possible moment, Tyra appeared in the living room where we were both standing, totally naked. Totally ignoring Ashley’s presence, she walked right behind me, and holding my hand, she whispered in my ear

“Tyra needs some loving, baby”

Ashley looked horrified, and without speaking a word, she fled out of the apartment. I knew that I should have gone after her to set her straight, but for some reason, mostly due to the fact that a hot, naked model was standing right next to me, I was transfixed.

“Who was that?”, Tyra gently asked as she reached for my crotch while nibbling on my earlobe

“That was my assistant”, I replied, getting turned on, and all feelings of guilt miraculously abandoning me, “Um, she came over to get some, um, files”, I lied.

I turned around and began to kiss her, my hands running over her bare back as she pushed my boxers down and cupped my butt in her hands. She began to massage it, causing me to giggle. My mouth left hers, and continued to travel down, taking her 34-C breasts in my mouth. My hands were traveling up and down her body as my tongue continued to tease her nipples, causing her to cry out louder than I had ever heard any woman I had been with cry before


I pushed her against the sofa and lowered my mouth to her hot pussy. I inserted a finger at first, and it felt so warm, soaking it with viscous juices. Without further ado, I lowered my mouth onto her cunt and began to suck. My tongue made its way into her slit as she continued to yell out loud. Her head was leaning back against the chair and her long hair scattered all over her face. She was rubbing her breasts with her hands, and my own hands were wrapped around her waist.

Despite the fact that it was late December, the room was rather hot, due less to the heating than the sexual activity going on there. My tongue eventually made contact with her clitoris, and she began to yell even louder


I continued to obey her demands as my mouth continued to roam her pussy. My right hand had already reached her ass, and without thinking, I inserted a finger into her ass hole. She seemed to enjoy this, as she squirmed and screamed even more, and announced that she was about to come. I was extremely turned on, and was even tempted to use my remaining hand to tend to my own needs, but I was sure there was going to be a lot of tending to me in the future, so I decided to pay full attention to Tyra.


Her orgasm arrived with a huge scream, causing me to wonder if she always screamed this much during sex, or if she was just feeling particularly horny tonight.

I lifted her up the couch, and briefly kissing her, I pushed her against the wall and spread her legs apart as I inserted my rock hard cock into her. She moaned as it entered her, and it felt so damn good in there. I continued to ride her, moving in a rhythmic motion, my pelvis grinding into hers as my dick continued to pleasure her. We continued to moan obscenities as we fucked each other.

I tried to get my mind off Ashley as I fucked Tyra, but it was almost impossible. It was so hard not to feel guilty, and I knew I had done the wrong thing in refusing to run off after her. I wondered what she had come to say to me, and how important it was. She probably wanted to talk about the kiss that almost happened. It had probably meant something to her, and her hopes had been dashed when she saw me with some model/actress. I only hoped it would not affect her work or make her quit. I didn’t know what I would do without her. The fact that I had been able to adapt so quickly after Dean’s departure was totally because of Ashley’s assistance, and it would be a blow if anything happened.

I was beginning to lose my hard on from thinking, so I returned my thoughts to the present love making session that was going on. I was still vigorously pumping into Tyra against the wall, and I began to kiss her neck, causing her to yell in even greater pleasure. She actually dug her fingers into my back, her long finger nails bruising me in the process, but it was bittersweet, the sheer eroticism of it, as well as the pleasure I was getting from the fucking, not allowing me to feel much pain.

My orgasm was near, and I whispered into her ear that I was about to come. She announced that she was also near orgasm, which made me rather proud of myself, that I had successfully been able to bring her near orgasm twice. We screamed again and again until we both came, and then collapsed on the floor.

I took her in my arms, and we began to kiss, when I suddenly heard my cell phone ring from inside my pants, which were lying on the floor. I reached for it and brought it to my ear, wondering if it could be Ashley. Almost an hour had passed since she left, and I hoped she got home alright. It was a male voice that was at the other end

“Is this Mr. Damon Brill?”, I heard someone ask

“Yes, this is Damon speaking, how may I help you?”

“Do you know a Miss Ashley Richards?”, the man asked

“Oh my God, is Ashley alright?”, I asked, my heart leaping into my mouth

“This is Dr. McAllister from the UCLA Medical Center. Miss Richards was in a car accident about thirty minutes ago, and was brought here”

“Oh my God”, I said, not believing what I was hearing

“We have called you, Mr. Brill”, continued the doctor, “because Miss Richards has you listed as her next-of-kin on her emergency form. What is your relationship with her?”

“I’m her boss”, I said softly, “please tell me Ashley is OK”

“Not to alarm you, Mr. Brill, but it does not look too good right now. She thankfully hasn’t fractured any bones, though some were damaged, and she suffered a concussion, and is still in a coma. But she should survive”

“I’ll be right there in a second”, I said, hanging up as I quickly put my clothes on. I could not believe this. I was responsible for Ashley getting herself into a car accident, and of course was never going to forgive myself

“What’s the matter?”, Tyra asked. I had even totally forgotten she was still in the room

“I need to go to the hospital, my assistant was in an accident”

“Is she OK?”, Tyra asked

“I hope so”, I said, as I dashed out of the door. However, I was held back by a naked Tyra, who held on to my arms

“I know this is the last thing you want to hear now”, she said, ‘but I really enjoyed this, and I’ll see you around sometime”

“Alright, bye”, I said, giving her a perfunctory peck on the cheek, before rushing out to my jeep.

It was a wonder that I managed to avoid an accident myself as I rushed to the hospital. My mind was riddled with guilt and worry. It was absolutely my fault that Ashley had gotten into this accident. I had treated the poor girl shabbily, and who knew what was going to happen to her. If only I had rushed after her, she would not be in this predicament now. She actually had me listed as her next of kin. What about her family? I suddenly marveled as to how little I knew about this girl. I never even bothered to wonder about her life outside of work, even though she took care of every little detail of mine. I had never even stopped to wonder why such a young girl was working and not attending school. I was such a jackass, and would never forgive myself if anything serious happened to her. I ran several red lights, and was several miles over the speed limit, and it was a wonder that I did not get caught.

I got to the hospital and found a place to park, and just as I was getting out of the car, my eyes suddenly fell on the gift that Ashley had given me for Christmas three days earlier, which I had been so insensitive I never even bothered to open. God, I was such a jerk. I grabbed it and ran into the UCLA Medical Center as fast as I could.

I eventually was able to locate the ER ward, and after signing a few papers and going through some rigmarole, I was able to visit Ashley in her ward. She looked rather peaceful, as she slept, several parts of her body bandaged up. She was connected to some life-support machine, which seemed to be ticking steadily. The doctor anticipated she would get out of her coma in about a day, and hopefully make enough progress to be discharged in less than a month. I could have killed myself right there, just looking at her innocent face, and wondering how I could have been so heartless to cause such damage to her life

“I am so sorry Ashley”, I whispered as soon as we were alone in the room, “could you possibly forgive me?”

I decided to once-and-for-all open the package which was still in my arms in pristine condition. I quietly undid the gift wrap, and I saw that it was indeed a book. Examination of the front cover revealed that it contained 100 classic love poems. I smiled at Ashley’s thoughtfulness and how romantic it was. No wonder she did not want me to open it right there in her presence, she probably was too shy. I flipped the cover page, and right there on the first page was a message in Ashley’s handwriting. The words were as thus

“I saw this book and thought of you; I saw just about everything and thought of you”

Oh my God, this chick was in love with me. What the fuck had I done?

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