#celebrity insert

Then the strangest thing started happening – you got some text messages that seemed actually to be to you. Nothing too personal at first, and not necessarily specifically responding to something you wrote, but somehow some of the invitations to text, and some of the messages sent out seemed to be inviting more of the types of texts that you sent when you lied to yourself and told yourself there was a chance that you might send a ray of light back to someone who brightened your life.

You know that you were sending photons their way, if you want to be technically accurate, but that isn’t the same as bringing some emotional brightness into someone’s life, and not even the most pedantic physicist would argue that it was. You just – you found that not just the thing that they’re best known for – or even the persona they don when talking to fans in a large-scale platform – or even their passion project that they seem a little bashful about promoting – all of it combined with the little glimpses through the vulnerability they allowed showed you a soul you were desperately in love with. Not necessarily in a “I need to marry you/spend the rest of my life with you” or even in an unhealthy “I can fix you” sort of way. In a “you bring a beautiful uniqueness to the universe, and if I can give you a little spark of that beauty back in a way you can receive it, I will be satisfied” sort of way.

The themness of them, right there behind their eyes, shining through every slightly awkward smile, or gut-rolling laugh, just adds oxygen to your day, and a shimmer to every moment. You want them to have a moment of that joy in return, and so you keep sending those thoughts into the ether, knowing full well they will never see it.

Then you get a text message from a number you don’t have saved in your phone. Just a short little quirky message that could have come from the other number, addressing you by name and thanking you for the beauty you are adding to their life.

You debate it for hours, certain that this is just a more sophisticated catfish than the usual “no, really I am celebrityXYZ’s true private account, and I just want to get to know you better” on social media. Then you remind yourself that you’ve been sending those photons into the ether in the hopes that maybe you could reach them. So, you do the only thing you can think of to confirm – you text the publicly available number and ask if they can confirm the middle two digits of the last 4 digits of the number you just received a text from.

They appreciate an esoteric test like that, and text the publicly available number that “While Scott Adams made a compelling case for the ultimate answer to be 42, I disagree, and clearly it was 39.” Your eyes widen, because this is the first time that you are absolutely certain that you aren’t making this up. Why would they send that within 3 hours of your text message. There was no other context around that statement. They have been known to send silliness without context or apparent purpose, but this was not only nonsense for no political, or promotional purpose you could determine, it also was the answer to your question. You didn’t actually pass probability and statistics a billion years ago, but your brain is acutely wired to run likelihoods without doing the specific math and spitting out reasonably accurate odds without you understanding how it knew.

You start to text your best friend that you know you can tell anything, and they won’t judge you, but then you stop. This can be just yours for now, and if it ends up being someone making an absolute fool of you, perhaps one of the people they surely pay to administer that account for them, you avoid making that foolhardiness more known than necessary.

You text the other number back with a simple but sappy message. “I’m so glad. I always told myself that if I happened to run into you in person when neither of us was clearly otherwise engaged or on the way to an appointment, I would ask you if I could give you a 30 second hug – to give my heart a chance to tell your heart what beauty it has brought to my life.”

Only moments later you get a picture of their face looking soft in a way that you haven’t seen outside of scripted moments, and your heart shatters and grows three sizes a la the Grinch.

You can’t believe it and shoot them a quick picture of your happy grin.

“I get the feeling that I’d enjoy that hug very much.”

You read that message over and over. You try to think of something witty to say in reply, but you know that you are tapped out of pre-planned comments, and now you’re feeling overly self-conscious.

Finally, you type back, “Maybe opportunities will align, and we can find out.”

The next few months include various text messages back and forth, you asking about their day, sharing snippets of funny stories from yours. As you share about your life, you get more comfortable and when they ask about your day, you are honest when it’s a tough day. You also share in more detail how their art helps you identify things you want to talk about with your therapist, helping you heal wounds that you hadn’t acknowledged to yourself for the longest time.

One day you get a different type of message, “Remind me again if the statistical data you signed up with is accurate – is this where you live?” You are surprised and respond without thinking “Yes, but not just that state, this city.”

“Okay, I have some work-related travel coming up to your state soon, and it’s actually not too far from where you live. Would you like to give us that chance to find out if I like your hug as much as we both think I will?”

You start panicking. You hoped that if you got that chance, it would be a much smaller interaction. You feel awkward and like you’re going to flub this up and become one of those “creepy fans” that celebrities tell their fellow celebrity friends about when they are commiserating about the difficulties of being in the public eye.

You start a dozen different responses, before typing out a brief, “That sounds amazing. What dates are we talking?”

They get back to you with the dates they’ll be in a nearby city. It is only 30 miles away and runs from a Thursday to a Wednesday. You are surprised and pleased to realize that you don’t have any major plans conflicting during that time frame. You check the site that details the fan conventions they participate in, to see if there is one during that weekend. It turns out that there isn’t, so you don’t know what is bringing them to town, but you are excited that they’ll be there.

“Is there a time during that week you’ll be less busy? I know that the nature of your work is long days, and slightly unpredictable. I’d hate to accidentally turn it into not even 30 seconds of a hug because of your schedule.”

“We can make sure there is enough time no matter what. In this case, I’ll be working most of the time, but the Sunday will be free time. Would you like to maybe meet up for coffee or brunch?”

You realize that you are now riding the line of possibly going on a date with this person. The one that you have found yourself spending an unhealthy amount of time thinking about, reminding yourself that they are a real person not just the fantasy that you’ve woven in your head over time.

“Yeah, meeting up for brunch would be lovely.”

You keep your texts short because you don’t want to babble as much as you know you will in person. You’re trying to avoid them realizing that you’re so unprepared for this interaction before you meet in person, so you have a chance to bring them that joy you’re hoping for.

“Do you have a favorite brunch place in either town?”

You panic slightly again because you don’t do brunch often. “Any food restrictions I should know about?”

“I’m good at figuring out what I can eat based on the menu, nothing massive like vegan, no.” They send you some gifs indicating that anything is good to go.

You find yourself grinning and chuckling a bit, sending some gifs back hoping to make them grin.

You do a quick search and find a fun French café in your town that not only has wonderful, traditional options, the website also indicates that they are open to substitutions to accommodate special dietary needs.

“What about this one?” You send a link to the French café.

“That looks like it would be a lot of fun! Can I pick you up, or do you want to meet there?”

You are taken aback; they’re offering to pick you up. If they weren’t the celebrity that you’ve been thinking about you wouldn’t want to start by them showing up at your house. On the other hand, you imagine what it would be like for them to share a vehicle with you on the way to and from the café, and the parking situation near the café isn’t the best.

You start to text your bestie a dozen times and delete them. Now that you’ve been texting this person for months, trying to explain how things got to this stage in order to bounce this off of them.

“Parking is a little crazy there, let’s carpool. I’ll send you my address closer to the day?”

“Sounds like a plan, I look forward to meeting you in person!”

They sound sincere, and you hope that you can be yourself, but not too awkward in the process.

The morning has arrived. You’ve obsessed over the outfit, done all your hygiene routine, and made sure that you look both not over-dressed, but also well put together. You texted your address to them after they sent you a photo from inside the local airport, still unable to believe this is really about to happen.

You receive a text telling you they are on their way, and you go through your place reviewing your checklist – wallet, keys, cellphone, making sure you have everything you need, including the cash for the parking lot closest to your destination. You pinch yourself on the inside of your bicep just to make sure this isn’t a dream and move to the door when you hear the knock.

There they were. You can’t control the grin that spreads over your face. “It’s really you.” They smile back. “It’s really me. Are you ready?”

“I am.”

You kick yourself mentally for not managing anything more engaging than that. You get into the passenger seat of the hybrid rental they’d driven, and make sure they’ve got the right address in their navigation system to head to the café. You ask about travel to your area, trying to find a way to start a conversation without sounding like an asshole. You point out the parking lot and pay for the spot once parking is secured.

As you walk toward the café they take your hand and ask you about some of the sights or what you know about the café. After getting seated and looking at the menu, they grin at the variety of mimosas available. “Well, I think we should get at least two and see which one we like best.”

You grin slightly, and agree, knowing that the delicious food will be enough to sop up the alcohol, and you can’t believe that they’ve indicated that they’ll share their drink with you.

After enjoying brunch and sharing equally the mimosas, unable to determine which is best, you return to the car and they drive you home. You find the courage to ask them if they’d like to come inside so you can give them that hug you’d mentioned before. They grin at you and say they thought you’d let them leave without asking about it, and they’re glad you didn’t.

You open the door and walk in, turning to welcome them into your home. They stepped in and waited for you to shut your door.

“So how are we doing this?” They ask, a smirk on their face.

“I’m going to hug you, and in my head, I’m going to count to 30, in your head you’re going to do the same, when we reach 30, we’ll tighten our grip, so we know when we’ve both counted to 30 seconds and let go. If that works for you? Otherwise, we could set a timer, I suppose.”

“That sounds good” they stepped closer arms open in invitation.

You step into their embrace, looping one arm over their shoulder, and the other around their waist. As your body comes in contact with theirs you focus, thinking about how their passion project made you feel, how their overall body of work makes you feel, how you appreciate so much the opportunities you’ve had to explore your own feelings and truths because of the truths they’ve portrayed in their work, all while counting in your head slowly to 30. When you reach thirty, you squeeze a little tighter and continue to hold on, and just concentrate on trying to convey your care and appreciation for the human in your arms while you stand there. You feel their body melt slightly into yours as a long sigh leaves their body, and imperceptibly their arms start to tighten. You start to release your grip, as agreed.

“No, please, longer.” Their voice is muffled against your neck where their face has come to rest. You tighten your grip in response. You press your whole body more firmly against theirs and let the hand around their waist spread wide and slide up and down their back slightly. You feel your body softening and warming as you think about them and feel their body and their warm breath against your neck. You tip your face in toward their neck and find your lips pressing soft kisses to their pulse point before you realize what you’re doing. Their breathing stutters slightly and their arms tighten. Their lips nibble at your neck in response. You murmur against their neck, “I’m sorry, this is more than we’d discussed.”

They press another kiss on your neck, nibbling toward your jawline, “I know, but I’m okay with this. Did you want to have a more explicit conversation?”

“Yes, I just want to make sure that we’re both enthusiastically consenting. The last thing I want is any regrets for either of us.”

You feel their sensuous lips curve into a smile against your cheek, “God, you’re such a beautiful soul! Okay, let’s go somewhere to talk.” They loosen their grip on you as you also pull back slightly. You smile up at them and gesture toward your couch. Their hand slides down your arm and their fingers intertwine with yours allowing you to lead the way. You feel a flush covering your cheeks as you smile over your shoulder at them as you walk to your couch. You settle on one end of the couch, pulling them to settle on the other end, keeping your fingers linked.

“So, um.” You find yourself suddenly tongue-tied looking at their face, unable to believe that you’re about to have this conversation. You close your eyes and swallow, and then spit out in a quick sequence of words “Would you like to have sex with me? If not that’s totally fine, but if not, did you want to make out, and if so, what is the limits you’d like, and if not that either, that’s totally fine, and I’m sorry if I just made this crazy awkward.” Your eyes open as your teeth clamp onto your lower lip with anxiety. You see a grin on their face, and you’re enchanted to see that expression in person, but still completely wracked with worry that you have screwed up what could have been a beautiful memory of a lovely visit.

Their face softens as they look at you and see your anxiety, and their fingers tighten on yours. “I think part of the questions we need to talk about is what you are comfortable with and want.” Their voice is so calm and patient you feel your tension melting.

“I would be lying if I said that I haven’t had some fantasies over the years. So obviously there is part of me that is screaming ‘Yes, please, right now!’ but at the same time, I know that part is based on the perceptions of you that were built up from what you showed to the public. The rest of me that has gotten to know that real human you are is so overwhelmed with softness toward you and would love to share every part of me with you, but only if that is something that sounds good to you as well. And if sex, or lovemaking, is too much, but making out isn’t, I’m game for that. If you want nothing more than a longer session of holding each other, possibly on the couch, or my bed, but no actual intent for anything sexual, I’m good with that too.”

They smiled at you and leaned forward to press a soft kiss to your fingers. “So, what I’m hearing is that you want to have sex, or even possibly make love, with me, but only if me, the whole human being you’ve been getting to know via text message and this outing today, wants it as well.”

You feel your cheeks redden more, and you smile softly, finding it easier to meet their eyes, “Yes, that is what I’m saying about what I’d like. And now I’d love to know what you’d like.”

They lean back slightly “and if I say that all I want is to lie in your arms for an hour or so, and possibly exchange some soft non-sexual kisses, you would be okay with that?”

“Yes.” Your reply is simple, your voice sincere, you smile confident.

“Do you understand how incredibly sexy that is?”

You laugh a little. “If I say yes, then it seems like my statement is a trap designed to lure you into what I want, and not the genuine feeling I have. If I say no, after you ask that with that slight gravel in your voice indicating that you find it sexy, it’s disingenuous in a completely different way. Thanks for giving me a no-win question.” You wink at them, and they laugh a full belly laugh that you’ve heard in videos, but never expected to hear in your living room.

“Your intelligence and quick wit are just two of the many reasons why I’m here on this couch with you right now.” They shift a little closer on the couch, their leg brushing against yours. “To answer more fully, I find myself drawn to you. Your hug definitely communicated something to my heart that mere words have never conveyed. Part of me would like to just do the lying next to you, holding you in my arms, because I suspect that our hearts would continue to commune in a way that we could both use. But I also know that my body responds to you so strongly that I want to have the option for more. I don’t have anywhere I have to be today until around eight, so let’s talk about how to check in with each other as the day goes on?”

You feel your heart melt even more. “How can you possibly find exactly the right thing to say? I love the idea of starting just holding each other and letting things develop organically. Shall we use the standard green, yellow, red color scheme to check in with each other?”

“That sounds good to me,” they press another kiss to your fingers. “So here on the couch?”

“Or we could go to my room. Color check?” You smile and pull their fingers to your mouth for a kiss as you ask.

“Green” they smile and stand pulling you to your feet with them.

You lead them to your room and shut the door behind you both. You let go of their hand long enough to peel back the blankets and top sheet on your bed. You both kick off your shoes and climb onto the bed, heads on the pillows, facing each other, legs casually entwined, arms wrapping around torsos, pulling bodies to touch.

Your eyes close as you feel the warmth of the care you feel for them flow through you again. You nuzzle your face into their neck, feeling their head tucking into the crook of your own neck in response. You keep breathing deeply, just letting your bodies melt into each other. You feel a warmth gathering in your center, and your lips start sucking lightly at their neck, kissing your way up to their ear. Their hand slid down your back to grip your ass and pull it more firmly against their hips. You murmur “green” against their ear, and their other hand grips your hair close to your scalp pulling your face back to meet their eyes. “Green,” their voice is rough with arousal, and you can see their pupils are wider than the dim lighting would necessitate. You grind your hips against theirs, feeling the building shared arousal, your hands slip under their shirt, ghosting along their waist, nails biting in slightly as your fingers find the dimples in their back. You feel a whimper escape your throat at the same time as a moan slips from their lips. Your eyes flip to their lips and back up to their eyes, as you both lean in for a kiss that starts soft, but quickly grows breathless and hungry. Teeth scraping over lips, tongues teasing each other, flipping just under the sensitive edge of the upper lip, and breaking apart to only shift angles and meet again.

You roll to your back, pulling them on top of you, one leg sliding between theirs, hips rocking as your hands grapple to push their shirt off even while not wanting to let their lips slide from yours. They use their grip on your hair to pull your head back once more, even while pressing their hips more firmly to yours. They quickly strip of their shirt and grin down at you. “Green?”

“Green,” you are surprised by how needy your voice is, you know that you are intensely turned on, and you can feel the evidence of their arousal against you, but you still didn’t expect to sound like you would die if things stopped.

They grunt just before they roll you reversing your positions, stripping your shirt off and running their hands down your torso, nails flicking lightly at your nipples. You lean down, hands caressing their cheeks, thumb brushing over their lower lip while you surprise them with a kiss on the tip of their nose.

Their eyes flip open at the surprise and you press another kiss just between their brows before leaning down and taking their mouth with yours. Their hands flex into your flesh, gripping your chest firmly as their hips roll against yours. Then their hands slide around your torso and are used to help flip your positions once more. Their hands move down to your pants, pausing with their hands on the fastening “green?”

“Yes, Green, GREEN.” Your voice isn’t just needy, it’s also greedy. Your hands start to join theirs.

“Let me.” Their voice is gruff with desire, and their eyes flick between yours and what they’re doing. Watching your body emerge from it’s wrapping, like it’s the best gift they’ve received.

Your hips lift slightly helping them bare your lower half, fingers reaching for them, wanting to see them too. Their hands intercept yours, fingers intertwining with yours, and pulling your hands up for some soft kisses while they meet your eyes. “Let me have a few minutes to just enjoy you, then you can have your turn?”

Your heart melts slightly as you realize that they are thoroughly invested and your fingers tighten slightly as you whisper, “yes.”

They squeeze slightly then let go of your hands, moving backwards and letting their hands slide down the outside of your legs to your ankles, pausing there to bracket them for a moment before sliding up the insides, gently urging you to spread your legs for them to kneel between them. You feel the soft friction of their jeans against the insides of your knees and you shift on the bed, arching your hips toward them, realizing that your body is going to ask for things that your mind is still unable to believe are happening with this person. You’ve thought of them as a beautiful human being, but one that would never realize you even existed, let alone want to spend time with you like this. And now. Now their fingers curved slightly so their nails scrapped at your inner thighs as they approached your center. You look up and see that their eyes are focused on your face, gauging your reactions by your expressions more so than what your body was doing where their hands were starting to explore. They were clearly generous lovers who wanted to learn how to please you, not just by making your body respond, but seeing that your mind is engaged and agreeing.

“Green?”

Your eyes flutter shut for a moment as a grin blossoms across your face. “Green.” Your voice is now firm and confident, as you lose yourself in the moment. Even if you never expected it, you will absolutely revel in every moment of this. Your eyes slowly re-open to meet theirs so they can watch how your arousal progresses and responds to their actions. Once your eyes are open again, they lower themselves, and press kisses around your navel before kissing further down your body. Their mouth joins their hands while their eyes stay focused on you. There is one moment where they hum in pleasure and the vibrations go right through you and your hips jolt upwards into the contact. 

You whimper slightly as you feel everything gathering and growing in pressure.

They continue and find even more places and motions that drive you even higher and closer to that precipice. “God, I’m close, I’m going to cum” your voice is harsh as you try to warn them of how strongly they are affecting you.

They wink while meeting your eyes and not stopping what their hands and mouth are doing to you.

A long moan shudders out of your mouth as your hips stutter against their ministrations, and you feel the tremors across your whole body as you hit the peak. They guide you through and down the other side before sliding up next to you, pressing their mouth to yours. You taste yourself mixed with the flavor that is uniquely them and you whimper slightly as you feel a new layer of arousal try to stir within you.

You roll them onto their back and bracket their wrists with your hands, pinning them next to their head as you smile down at them. “My turn!  Green?”

Their grin was wide as their hands flexed then relaxed, acquiescing to staying still “Definitely green.” They purr into your mouth as you close your lips over theirs.

Your tongues slide against each other, and your teeth nip into their lower lip before you kiss along their jawline to their ear. You suck lightly at the sensitive spot below their ear before sliding down their body, your mouth tracing wide hot kisses down their throat, across their chest, pausing to lave and nibble at a nipple, then tracing a line to the other. Their breath catches in their throat with a whimper, and rips back out again with a loud groan.

Your eyes flick up to meet theirs as you grin at them before continuing down. Your hands side ahead of your mouth, unfastening their pants as your mouth pauses at their navel. You dip your tongue inside before angling off to their hip bone. You drag your teeth over the sensitive flesh just inside the hollow of their hip bone. You suck on their lower abdomen then sit up, grinning at the picture they make with their arms still pressed next to their head, pupils blown wide, and mouth open as they pant with arousal. You strip their clothes off them and slide up between their legs. Mouth biting slightly at the insides of their thigh before they break and tangle their hands in your hair tugging you closer to their core. You lift up slightly, fingertips barely brushing their sensitive flesh, eyes locking on theirs as they pant out “greeeen, please.”

You open your mouth, darting your tongue out to swirl around the most sensitive point on their body before surrounding it with your mouth. You use gentle suction and swirling motions with your tongue, and expert touches of your fingers to drive them quickly up the path to their own explosion. Their hands tug harder at your hair, clearly lost in the pursuit of their pleasure. They pant out a warning that they’re about to cum, and you increase your efforts to make them fly past that point of no return.

You guide them through their orgasm, and then back down to gently float in the afterglow, before sliding up along their body to cuddle into them. Your bodies intertwine and you feel your hips rolling together in a gentle afterglow. They press their lips to yours in a deep, intimate, but soothing kiss.

“I’m so glad that I responded to your text.”

You feel a flush of pleasure tint your cheeks. “Me too.”

“Listen, my life…”

“Don’t worry,” you interrupt gently, “I don’t have any illusions that we are going to have a picket fence and a Brady Bunch kind of life.”

“I want to see you again the next time I’m in the area, is that something you’re open to?”