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Journal of an Agent: Chapter1-Rachael Leigh Cook

I did not write this story it was written by Carnage Jackson

Journal of an Agent-Chapter1: Rachael Leigh Cook
Following the death of my father, I became the inheritor of his business as a Hollywood agent. I hadn’t known too much of my father, because he left my mother and I when I was 3 to pursue his dreams in L.A. and Hollywood. Having not received a birthday card or even a call in over ten years, I wasn’t exactly excited about the idea of inheriting a business. I had just graduated college with a degree in English and was looking forward to finding a job as either a columnist or a teacher or something to that effect.

My mother died right after I graduated high school, so I had been on my own for a while. I wasn’t planning on attending my father’s funeral, until his most loyal employee, a woman named Rebecca Carr called me at home to tell me about the inheritance. Rebecca had been with my father since he moved to L.A., and though they were intimate with each other early on she told me, passion soon gave way to a deeper friendship and she helped his business grow. It was upon her insistence that I chose to attend. My father’s funeral was a bit of a scene in Hollywood, as he had spent over 20 years there building a small empire. Young and old, famous and fleeting celebrities were in attendance. People guessed right away who I was, as anyone who knew my father as well as knew me said I was almost an exact image, albeit a little skinnier. I was about 6’1 and weighed about 170 to 180 pounds. I didn’t work out religiously but I was in good shape. The most striking feature I had been told were my eyes. Apparently I had inherited from my father this icy cold stare that burned through my dark blue eyes into people. Combined with my dark brown hair, I had been told by more than one ex-girlfriend that I could look very menacing sometimes when I got even slightly angry.

Following the services, I met with the executor of my father’s estate, a Mr. Blake, as well as a Ms. Carr to discuss the future of the agency.

"Your father had quite a successful business here Mr. Simonds," said Mr. Blake. "Over 30 employees, a fine stable of award winning actors, actresses and musicians, as well as close to a hundred unknowns. Keeping retainers with virtually all of them was a brilliant move by your father, as the agency is now worth an estimated $50 million dollars. Being his only heir, you stand to inherit it, as well as his home and personal finances."

I was shocked. I knew he had done fairly well (my mother never said much about him and his success) but I had no idea HOW well. Blake continued:

"You can do what you wish with the business Mr. Simonds, but before you act I suggest you speak with Ms. Carr first before deciding one way or the other," Blake said.

Ms. Carr finally spoke. She was a woman in her late 50s, still in good shape for the most part. Her hair had gone gray but not in a witchy sort of way. It seemed to fit her perfectly, as though she had aged, you could tell that she must have been very attractive in her younger years. Her brownish-green eyes danced with this natural exuberance and I couldn’t help but think that she would have made a good model.

"Dean, your father loved you despite his lack of showing it. I know you didn’t know him, nor do you know the slightest thing about Hollywood or being an agent, but I think that you probably have the natural charisma your father had. You really should consider running his business. That was your father’s last wish, that you help it grow," she said, smiling ever so slightly when she finished. She came across as a good natured grandmother, which was probably the effect she was going for. Her last part angered me a little, trying to play the pity card.

"Look, I know that he wanted me to run things, but I don’t have the slightest clue. Even with you here to help me, I would still be lost, not to mention be light years behind in learning how to schmooze this town," I said.

"I only wish I could stay to help you. Like your father, I put my heart and soul into here but now I have to cash out. There are too many memories, too much pain. Besides, I’m an old woman. I want to enjoy my late years," replied Rebecca.

"Well, that’s just great. Now I have NO ONE to help me, even if I DID decide to stay!" I said, throwing my hands in the air in exasperation.

"No, no, no, that’s not true. Ever since your father became sick, I knew I would be retiring. I’ve been training a replacement though, and I’m sure that she will be able to help you just as well as I could," said Rebecca.

We discussed and debated for over two hours, but in the end (and much to my chagrin) I agreed to stay and try to run the company for an interim period of six months, just to see how things went. That would give me time to tie up loose ends and sell clients to other agencies if need be. I went home to my father’s house that night, laying in bed thinking about all that I had brought upon myself. I concluded that I was at a good cross road and that because of the safety net of money left to me, I could afford to take a risk like this. Hey, I thought as I drifted off to sleep, maybe I’ll get laid somewhere along the way.

I went into work on Monday feeling optimistic about things, as well as a little apprehensive. I went into my father’s office and sat down in his chair to try and sort out files and such. I hadn’t been sitting for 5 minutes when a knock came on the door.

"Come in," I said as I straightened up in my chair and tried to look my most professional.

The door opened and in walked a beautiful young woman, wearing a knee length maroon skirt and a white blouse. Her hair was a rich black and her skin was of an olive complexion. She had bright green eyes that were perfectly positioned on her face. Her nose was small as were her lips, which was a shade that matched the colour of her dress. Her chest wasn’t enormous, but certainly tested the limits of the fabric of her blouse. She walked with a kind of step that exuded confidence in her, but also showed she couldn’t be fucked with. I liked her already.

"Hi. My name is Julie Carr and I’m here to help you sort through those files on your desk," she said. She spoke with an unmistakable California accent, one that showed she had lived in California her whole life. My mind immediately made the connection when she said her name.

"Carr? Are you related to Rebecca Carr who used to work here?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yes. She is my mother. But like you, I never knew my father. Mom has been training me to help you for two months now and I think I will be able to help you figure things out. You ARE Dean Simonds aren’t you?" she smiled at me.

"Yes, that’s me. How did your mother know that I was going to be running things two months ago? I just met her two DAYS ago." I asked.

"I asked the same thing. All she said was that if she knew your father at all, convincing you to stay would be no sweat," she replied, sitting herself in one of the two guest chairs of the office.

Her mother’s assumption about me made me a little ticked, and I guess it showed because Julie sort of got this defensive look on her face that showed she knew I was upset.

"Look, all that is over and done with. Your here for six months, so let’s try to make the most of it," she said, extending her petite right hand out for me to shake.

I shook her hand and calmed down a little bit. Bygones are bygones I thought. For the next three hours, we poured over the files. I got to like Julie’s personality right away, but she seemed to exude this self defence sort of attitude that crushed any attempt at a sexual manoeuvre. For lunch, Julie had one of the interns pick us up some sandwiches from the delicatessen down the street. After we finished eating, Julie stood to go.

"Well, we made some good progress today. Hopefully we can get this far all the time," she said.

"Where are you going? It’s only 1:30? Was my father THAT lax in letting people leave?" I asked.

She laughed. "No, it’s just you have a client coming in at 2:00 and I thought you might want some time to clean up the office. Oh yeah, and to get that piece of lettuce out from your teeth," she said laughing good naturedly as she walked out.

I walked over to the mirror and brushed my teeth, and then proceeded to clean myself up. I had just finished straitening up the files we had been going through when there was a knock on the door.

"Dean, this is Racheal Leigh Cook. She’s your two o’ clock," said Julie, opening the door and ushering in the client. As soon as Racheal had walked in, Julie closed the door behind her.

Rachael was wearing a dark green sweater and a black silk dress. Combined, the outfit went a long way to hiding the curves that she had to have underneath. Even though I wasn’t from Hollywood, I certainly knew who she was. Even in person, she exuded this sort of shy radiance…like a delicate flower who was afraid to blossom. Her hair was pulled back behind her ears and she looked almost elfish. Despite wearing 5 inch lift shoes, she still barely would have come up to my chest. I rose to greet her.

"Ahh, Ms. Cook. How are you? I’m Dean Simonds. Would you care for something to drink?" I said.

"A glass of water if you don’t mind. I’m sorry to hear about your father. He was a terrific man. In fact, that’s sort of why I am here today." she said.

I walked over to the mini bar and poured her a glass of water, fixing myself a scotch over ice.

"What do you mean?" I asked, handing her drink to her. She did indeed only come up to my chest. Raising her head, her deep, soulful brown eyes looked me in my eyes.

"Well, I was planning on coming over to your firm as long ago as last year, now that I finally got all the legal paper work done with my ex agent. I had to reschedule my appointment after your father’s passing. But with you running things now, I can still check to see if it is true." she said, taking a sip of her water.

"See if what is true?" I asked a little puzzled.

Her eyes sparkled for a brief moment. Rachael laughed lightly, a very feathery kind of laugh that helped with her pixyish image. She again looked into my eyes, but this time with a growing sense of lust.

"Your father was known as a great guy for his clients it’s true. But he was even more well known by his female clients as being…well…endowed," she said, stepping closer to me.

Her forwardness surprised me. Everything I had read about her or seen her in, she always seemed very passive and shy. But apparently sexually, she knew exactly what she wanted.

"…and with you I can see if the old saying ‘Like father, like son’ is correct," she said, placing her hands on my belt.

My mind raced. Here I was on my first day of running a business and I was already being seduced like a common gigolo. Should I go with it or stop this now and keep from building a reputation?

My question was answered when I felt the belt come off and my pants fall to the floor. Rachael stood on her tip toes and leaned into me, forcing me back against the mini-bar. Her mouth met mine and her tongue slid into my mouth like a stealth snake. I responded in kind by meeting her tongue halfway. I lifted her up off of me and carried her over to the couch against the far wall of my office. I laid on top her, holding myself up with my arms. We kissed each other passionately and I slowly slid my hand up her side to her just big enough breasts and began to play with her right breast through the material of her sweater. I could feel her moan into my mouth, an obvious sign she was enjoying it. Our kiss finally broke, and she sat up. Reaching down, she lifted her sweater over her head, revealing a pair of grapefruit sized breasts straining and heaving against a black push up bra. She reached around her back and unclasped the bra, flinging it aside. Her breasts were bigger than I had guessed, with dark brown, quarter sized nipples in the centre of each. I stuck my hands out and squeezed them gently, massaging them around in my hands. Rachael groaned softly, throwing her head back in pleasure. Her dark brown, shoulder length hair fell upon her bare shoulders as she looked at me again with those eyes. I gazed upon her face, relishing her simple yet elegant face. Rachael began unbuttoning my shirt one button at a time, very methodically. I lifted myself up with my elbows and she slid the shirt off of me. As I said earlier, I try to stay in shape, focusing mainly on getting some tone in my arms and having a flat stomach. At this point, I was now left in only my boxers, something Rachael quickly set to remove. Using the same gentleness she had used before on my shirt and pants, she slowly slid my boxers off over my cock, allowing it to spring up and then land with a very audible thump on my stomach. Somewhere in the back of my mind I wondered if anyone heard us.

Rachael licked her lips and slowly began jacking my cock with her right hand, as I continued to play with her tits. God they were soft and felt so great.

"I guess all my girlfriends were right, having a big cock DOES run in the family," she said with a devilish smile.

I guess I’m modest, because I never have measured how big I am. Previous girlfriends had said I was big, but again I didn’t know.

"God, you must be at least 9 inches long!" Rachael gasped, inadvertently answering my question. "And you’re as thick as my wrist! I’ve got to feel this beast in me before I let you go," she said, smiling.

"But first, a little snack!"

Lowering her head down so that her hair fell in front of her face, her lips touched the head of my very erect prick very lightly. Snaking her tongue out, I felt her twist it around in my pisshole. Pulling her mouth off for just a split second, the cool air hitting where her warm lips had been was a thrill. But it was short lived, as in one swift move attempted to deep throat me. She got about half of my cock down her throat before it hit the back of her throat. She lifted her mouth off again and began licking me up and down, starting from the head and going all the way down to my balls, sucking on each one in that gentle manner she had been using. By this time, I was really enjoying myself, but things had to pick up. I placed my hand atop her head and forced her back down on my cock. Grabbing a handful of her hair, I pulled her mouth up and down my cock. She got the idea very quick and began bobbing up and down rapidly. I laid my head back on the arm of the couch and relaxed, letting out a sigh. She continued like this for what must have been 10 minutes, rotating between licking my cock slowly and bobbing up and down fast. Finally I said in a husky voice "I’m about to come."

Pulling her head off completely, she grabbed my cock with her hand and stood me up. With me standing and my cock still in her hand, she got to her knees and began jerking me rapidly. I grunted loudly as my cock exploded, spraying her chin and lips and even landing a dollop or two in her hair. With my cum dripping off of her chin and onto her cute little breasts, she proceeded to lick my cock of any cum and wiped the cum from her lips, only to rub it into her chest and onto her tits. Out of breath, I sat back down on the couch. Rachael stood up before me and wriggled out of her dress, letting it fall to the floor. To my surprise, she wasn’t wearing any panties. Her snatch was a lighter brown than her hair, but was still a close match. She was shaved in a bikini line but nowhere else, which left a wispy "V" shape over her mound. Her pussy hair wasn’t very thick and I could see that her cunt was fully aroused, her dark brown outer lips glistening from her female wetness. She lowered her legs over my still erect cock and slowly let it push into her. My god she was tight, but not a virgin which really didn’t surprise me.

Finally I felt her settle on top of me, my cock buried to the hilt in her warm pussy. Rachael gave a moan of pure satisfaction and then lay her head on my shoulder. Using the couch as a lift, she proceeded to slowly move herself up and down my cock. I could feel her pussy craving more as it tried to grip me every time she slid on and off of my cock.
Wanting to match her pace because I knew I wouldn’t last long inside her (I hadn’t had sex in a while), I began thrusting my hips up every time she would pull off, making sure that no matter how high up she lifted herself, the tip of my prick was still in her. I reached down to her beautiful snatch and began stroking her clit furiously at a much faster pace than what we were going at. The combined sensation was too much for her, as she cried out in orgasm and I felt her juices spill onto my hand and legs. Feeling myself on the brink, I warned her that I was about to come. Lifting her head off my shoulder and still struggling to catch her breath after her orgasm.

"Cum…in my…ass," she gasped.

I had never had a girl ask to be fucked up the ass, but hey, this was L.A. I pulled out of her and tried to lubricate my cock with her juice and my precum. Rachael had already leaned over the couch arm and was thrusting her ass up in the air. Walking up behind her, I bent down to lick her asshole just to soften things up a little. Placing my cock at her tight little hole, I gently pressed my head into her. I could hear her grimace at first and bite down on her lower lip until I got the head past, and then she sort of sighed in relief. I worked the shaft into her and before I even realized, I had all but a few inches in her.
Because I was the one setting the tempo and since I knew I was close to orgasm, I built up a quickening pace of thrusts into her ass, pushing harder every time. Rachael gasped and moaned, loving every minute of it. I reached my hand down and began playing with her clit again, shoving three fingers in and out of her tight, wet pussy. I felt that familiar sensation in my balls again, and thrust into her hard one last time, shooting my hot load right up her ass. She must have felt it in her because she cried out in a loud pleasure scream that I knew SOMEONE must have heard.

We were both out of breath, and when I felt my dick softening, I pulled out of her. We lay on the couch for a few minutes, kissing and touching each other, until Rachael said she had to go.

We both got dressed and I walked her to the door.

"I have total confidence in your skills Mr. Simonds. I hope you will accept me as a client," Rachael said, kissing me on the cheek.

"Well, after that convincing argument, I would be a fool not to," I replied, smiling.

I watched her go and then shut the door to my office. Sitting back in my
chair with my hands behind my head, I breathed a sigh of relief.

"I think things will go just fine out here," I said to myself.
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