Adam's Celebrity Fucks 1

Audrey Hepburn was elegant grace personified -- her mom was a baroness.
She swanned around in ensembles by Hubert de Givenchy. He said she was his muse (I don't imagine any fashion designer saying Reese Witherspoon is his muse).
Audrey Hepburn was a princess in Roman Holiday, a chauffeur's daughter in Sabrina, a flowergirl in My Fair Lady, the good-time girl Holly Golightly in Breakfast at Tiffany's, blind and helpless in Wait Until Dark, funny and charming in Charade, and in love with Robin Hood in Robin and Marian, a movie I liked very much, because it had mature people with grey hair in it.
She had a lovely British accent and was a spokesperson for Unesco, helping children in Africa. They don't make actresses that classy anymore.
Years ago, between marriages, I fucked her. Over a weekend.
Audrey Hepburn was ardent. She straddled me. Her figure was boyishly slim and elfin. She did not have big gazoombas, but they were perky all the same, and her nipples, like the rest of her, were classy and cute.
Audrey Hepburn talked dirty in bed.
"Fuck me hard," she said. So I did. When Audrey Hepburn asks you to fuck her hard in her lovely, classy, British accent, you don't argue with her, you put extra vigor in your thrusts.
Her voice got very throaty when she fucked.
"How do you like my pussy?" Audrey Hepburn asked in a throaty voice.
I made some kind of mmmm-like reply.
"Describe it," Audrey Hepburn demanded.
I thought she was giving me some kind of test.
I told her that her vag was surprisingly muscular and agreeably moist and, I don't know, sublimely prestigious, and she liked that. Audrey Hepburn laughed and squeezed down on me.
Afterwards she put on a very fashionable negligee -- probably by Givenchy.
I got excited by her staggering sense of fashion, so we did it again, this time not so hard, but slower and sweeter.
Towards the end things got very wild and quite hard again. Her thrusts were big, like a braggart's dance moves, and I had a tough time staying on top of Audrey Hepburn. She was strong despite being small. Maybe it was because of all that ballet training when she was young. She could have flung me clean up in the air like a paper plane to land god-knows-where.
"Harder, harder," she said in her ever-throatier voice.
She started growling, and when she came, her voice was so low and throaty it felt like I was fucking a lioness, albeit a boyishly perky one.
I also fucked Warren Beatty. That was very exhausting. The man doesn't let up or pause for breath. It's just fuck, fuck, fuck.
I was very sore when I woke up the next morning, hurting like hell in fact -- yet to my surprise I wanted to fuck him again. But he was gone. Maybe that was a good thing; I might have ended up bleeding.
Fucking celebrities isn't all fun and games. It can be lonely, hard work. They're busy people, and afterwards they're off and away, leaving nothing but a sweet or sore memory.
But I always let them, because it's fascinating to fuck someone who looks like they look in a movie you just saw.
When I get to heaven I hope to fuck Sarah Bernhardt. I'll ask her to tie me down with her long scarves.
If you find this meaningless, even tasteless, so do I. There's nothing particularly meaningful or tasteful about fucking a celebrity, even if most people on earth devoutly wish they could fuck a celebrity.
You do, too, don't you?
BTW, which one?