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This is a work of fiction, based on the real person, Russell Crowe. No insult or injury is intended. This story is for entertainment purposes only. The story is for readers over the age of 18 only, and contains adult language. The writer is not responsible for any "discomfort" caused to the reader by this language and these situations.
by: Darrin Lee Hutton © 10/2002
Labour Day Weekend 2003 It was But when he had finished with the emails, he still felt restless. Taking another sip of the bourbon, he switched to his anonymous Internet account and clicked over to MaxCrowe to see how the girls were doing. He knew one of them had had a rough time of it and was pleased to see that they seemed to be back in the swing of things. He saw near the bottom of the front page a link to a Web Ring of sites dedicated to him, Christ, these sheilas, he smiled to himself. The bourbon and lack of sleep were making him feel a bit knackered. Impetuously, he clicked through to see who was on this ring. A list of the sites appeared before him and he scrolled down to see if something would catch his eye. Most were named with some odd juxtaposition of Russell or Crowe, but then he saw one that piqued his curiosity. The Velvet Glove? Now how does that belong on this list? He clicked through, spurred on again by his inability to think clearly. Ah, the mystery solved, it was one of “those” sites. He chuckled a bit, feeling wicked. He occasionally found himself confronted with this, what did they call it? Fan fic, yeah, that’s it. But he rarely read any, never finished one, certainly. They were explicitly sexual and he liked his graphic sex in person, fuck you very much. And he wasn’t much for reading about how “his sheilas” thought he would root them. He loved his fans dearly, but sometimes…He shook his head. Best shut this down, mate. Then something caught his eye. He knew that these writers liked using his characters in stories, always saw Cort and Hando and Bud featured prominently, but someone had written a Sid story. Now that he hadn’t seen before. Who would think Sid could be used in a sex story? That character had been a lot of fun, but he rarely saw his name on these sites. Not that he visited with any regularity, but he did have people who checked for security reasons and when they joked about it, Sid had never come up, except for a couple of silly pieces that they had laughed briefly at and moved on.
This piece was called “Emergence” and the chapter headers made him laugh. Looked like a computer literate had stuck her hand in Sid’s cookie jar. Without thinking, he clicked on the first chapter, Sid 6.7.1. He fully expected another silly
piece, like Sid terrorizing “Fuck! That’s bloody brilliant,” he laughed. Woulda made an interesting sequel. At the bottom of the page he saw a piccie of her. She was a good-lookin’ little sheila, short black hair, pixie smile and deep, brown eyes. And he also saw an email link. Well, he was on his anonymous account, why not? Click. “I enjoyed your piece.
Nice work. I think I would
have enjoyed playing Sid this way. Liked
the ending. Russell” Hit send before he could think about it.
That’s what no sleep and a double
bourbon’ll do to ya, mate. Make
you make stupid decisions. Ah,
well, no pulling back now. He was
about to explore some more when his email beeped. “Well, a, thanks for the compliment, but 2, you’re a
bloody wanker.” Hmm, the sheila was awake too. And
not having any of it. And speaking
Aussie at him. That deserved a
dressing down. “I was being serious, you barmy sheila!
But if ya don’t like my comments, I’ll keep them to myself.
Thought you lot ‘thrived’ on feedback.
That’s what it says.” Send. Brief moment later:
Beep. “Sure, if it’s legitimate.
But you ‘Russell’s’ out there makin’ fun of us.
That’s just not cricket, mate.” Russell wrestled with whether he would reply.
If he let it go, she’d think he was one of those arseholes who chuffed
on teasing his sheilas. If he sent
yet another reply, she’d just wank on him again for being a dick.
Well, fuck, it was just a plonk, nothing serious.
Why not keep it going? He
wasn’t doing anything else tonight. “Look, luv, if you’re not gonna believe me, then
there’s nothin’ I can do about that. But
what if I’m tellin’ the truth? Would
you really be talkin’ to me this way?” Send. Beep. “Prove to me you are who you say you are.
Then I’ll be nice.”
Hmm, interesting. He smiled a
wicked grin and grabbed his digital camera and that day’s newspaper from the
coffee table behind him. Snapped the
shot of him holding the paper and loaded the pic to his laptop.
Fuck’m I DOIN’??? went
briefly through his mind, but he was determined suddenly that this sheila
believe him. Determined and pissed
from sleep depravation and bourbon. Mark’d
have his hide if he knew. “Try this on for size, why dontcha?
We’ll call it ‘Proof of Russell’, shall we?” Attach. Send. Silence. Russell chuckled evilly. “That’s
gotcha, don’t it?” he said to the computer screen.
“Nothin’ ta say now, huh?” Beep. “oh
fuck” Russell laughed out loud. Hard.
She was a spitfire, this one. And
cute. He loved it when a sheila
could make him laugh. “Nothin’ ta say, luv?
Sid got yer tongue?” Send. Long wait.
Beep. “Mr Crowe. I
am deeply sorry. My heartfelt
apologies are completely inadequate, but please accept them. I writhe at your feet in a frenzy of self-abasement, Sarah Runyon” Russell laughed until the tears were rolling down his cheeks.
That was righteously funny. “Ah, luv, no worries.
I had a great laugh. You’re
quite the writer, aren’t you?” Send. Brief wait.
Beep. “You’re very kind to say so.
Thank you. May I ask what
you’re doing up so late and perving on the web, young man?” Young man?
How old did she think he was? For
that matter, how old was she?
The pic hadn’t looked much older than his age.
Maybe she was just playing with him.
“Thanks, but I already have a Mum.
And she’s a bit older than me, which you don’t appear to be.” Send. Beep. “LOL. A lady
doesn’t divulge her age. But
seriously, can’t sleep?” Russell smiled. Concern.
How sweet. “Had a rough day. What
about you? Why are you up?
In another part of the world, are you?” Send. Beep. “Nah, mate, right here w/ you.
Well, He was beginning to like this little sheila.
She had a sense of humor and was talking
to him, not gushing or simpering. Just
regular conversation. Russell was
getting into this. “Then why are ya talkin’ Aussie at me?
And no ducking the question, luv. Why
are ya up?” Send. Short wait.
Beep. “Sorry, I’m originally from I’m up cuz I always stay up on the weekends.
Tomorrow’s a holiday and so I’m jazzin’ on the If it’s not too prying, why did you have a bad day?” He was getting intrigued. Russell
lit a ciggie, poured himself another bourbon and replied. “Had a rough set of meetings.
Ever talk til you’re blue in the face and still get nowhere?
Obtuse-ness is a disease with some of these blokes.” Send. Wait.
Beep. “LOL. Been
there, done that. Just the other day
I got a hand-delivered email from a
dude at work. He had taken the time
to type it, PRINT it and ask his assistant to walk it to my office 10 feet away.
All that instead of clicking SEND…SHEESH!
Had to work double time not to just rip him a new one.”
Russell chuckled. He was
feeling remarkably better, although still light headed from the alcohol and lack
of sleep. Truth be told though, he
didn’t feel in the least bit tired anymore. “So tell me more about yourself.
What do you do?” Send. Bit of a wait.
Beep. “I’m in the delightful world of Payroll.
Y’know, that crazy lot of bean-counters y’all think of as
accountants, SOME of us actually do nice things.
Like PAY people. It’s fun,
but just a day job. It pays the
rent, anyway.” He sent back: “Got an IM? Wanna
chat for a bit?” He was getting tired of the waits between emails.
And maybe he could entice her to tell him a story… “This is so fuckin’ surreal.
Yeah…MSN good for you?” He smiled. Got into the
program and looked her up from her email addy. “Found ya.” “Hi! Say, you
know this makes ya a ‘puter nerd?” “That’s funny. Cuz if you’d told me a year ago someone
would call me that, I’d’ve laughed in your face.” “And if someone had told me yesterday I’d be talking to
you via IM, I’d’ve told ‘em they were plonked.” “You’re such a barmy sheila.” “Thank you! Such
sweet talk from the Lord of Lust.” “You sheilas all have this randy picture of me, don’t
you?” “We have many randy pix of you, mate.
Check this out.” His email beeped. He giggled
at what he saw.
“I take it back. You’re
not barmy. You’re a RANDY
sheila!” “Oh, yeah? Take
THIS!” Another beep.
Russell’s laugh echoed through the room. “Now wait just a minute…Got Batteries?
Are ya in ta wankin?” “I refuse to answer on the grounds that it may
immolate…whoops…incriminate me.” “No pleadin’ the Fifth, luv, answer the question!” “Now, Russell, I’m a grown-up, well, at least I’m the
AGE of a grown-up, and I don’t have to answer that.” “You just did.” “;-)” “Cute. Tell me
a story, then, luv. One that’ll
curl our toes.” “Really?” “Really.” “All right. You
asked for it…” “Do it. Enter
after each sentence, I’ll keep up…” “’Kay…Here goes…” “Ready.” “He looked at her
from across the table and she knew.
“Come on.
Let’s blow this joint.” They got up from the
table and while he paid the bill, she went outside and gave the valet their
tickets. Her car pulled around the
corner just as he joined her outside. He
reached out to grab her for a kiss but she was ahead of him and got into her car
just as his car pulled up. He leaned into her
window and said, “Follow me.” “I think you mean
that the other way around, don’t you?” “You don’t know
where you’re going.” He said
with a half-serious laugh. She smiled wickedly
and pealed out of the parking lot. He
stared after her for a quick second and then leapt to his car.
She pulled several stunts on the way.
Running red lights and cutting in and out of traffic.
But although he was amused and annoyed, he was downright amazed when she
pulled up in front of his apartment building. She had climbed out of
her car and started up the walkway before he managed to park.
Halfway up the stairs trying to catch up, he found the first article of
clothing. By the time he reached his
front door she was barely clothed. Grabbing
his keys out of his hand she let herself in and smiled at him as she removed her
bra. He kicked the door
closed behind him, let the rest of her clothing fall from his hands and reached
for her. He pushed her up against
the wall, taking her hands in his and holding them above her head with one hand.
The other traced the outline of her face as he leaned in to finally kiss
her. Lips only at first,
then probing tongues met as the passion grew.
He caressed her neck, holding it gently as if he would strangle her while
he concentrated on kissing her into an oblivion she hadn’t known could be
possible from just a kiss. When a
small moan escaped from the back of her throat he pulled away a little and
smiled at her. She was gasping and
he was breathing so heavily, they both knew. He trailed his hand
downward to her breast holding and squeezing it gently, until he could feel the
nipple throbbing in his palm. He let
go of her hands and undid his belt as she unbuttoned his shirt.
He kicked his pants away from him, let his shirt fall to the floor behind
him and began kissing her again. Putting
his arms around her, he picked her up and walked into the bedroom as her hands
moved into his hair. He put her on the bed
and joined her there after removing the last pieces of their clothing.
His hands buried themselves in her long brunette tresses as they knelt
together. She felt him grow hard
against her belly, and longed to feel him inside her.
His hands moved down to her sex, caressing the hair there and then
exploring the wetness inside. He slid one finger in
and she moaned with delight and anticipation.
Her hands went to his cock, softly pulling at him, letting him know she
was more than ready. But he was
pushing her down onto the bed and trailed the kiss from her mouth, down to her
breasts, suckling them into a higher degree of passion.
He kept kissing lower and lower until he reached her softness, which
glistened with the moisture that would soon become a flood.
His tongue darted into
her and licked against the one hard place in the satiny recesses of her.
She writhed with delight as he found that one little place she loved.
Higher and higher she went with each touch until she could take no more
and found her whole body shaking with the explosion he had wrought from her. He kissed the inside
of her thighs until her trembling subsided and then gave a surprising last
little lick, which shocked her into another spasm, before beginning the upward
journey, kissing her belly, her breasts and her neck.
He licked the perspiration from her forehead and from behind her ears. He pulled away from
her and smiled again, with a little laugh that spoke volumes to her.
She knew. And then, kissing
her deeply, he pushed her legs open with his knee and then thrust himself into
her up to the root. She drew in her
breath sharply and he was satisfied to hear her crying out because of it. But then all he could
think of was the feeling of her around him.
The gentle tugging of her against him.
The cocoon-like sensation that went through his entire body.
Her moans in his ear as he kept trying to kiss her, his lips on her lips
and cheeks and eyelids. His hands in
her hair and her hands on his back, pulling him closer and tighter and the
rising urgency in his lower region as he thrust and pushed into her faster and
faster. Listening closely to her as
she strove to follow him up into the passion, up into the ecstasy.
Feeling like he could almost let himself go, but pulling back to make it
last just a little longer, just a little longer.
And then realizing that he couldn’t wait any longer and delighted to
hear her right there with him as he thrust and thrust and thrust and spilled
into her all of himself. All he had
left as he ground his hips into hers and as she pushed up into his and he could
swear he could feel her sucking him into her, pulling everything into the very
centre of her. And slowly, fell into
a gentle rhythm to make it last as long as possible, to make the feeling linger
on and feeling her still shake and tremble beneath him with each soft push.
Then wrapping his arms around her, holding her close, trying to make her
body a part of his. Snuggling into
her neck and hair and whispering “Good, oh so good” into her ear and hearing
her sighing as she finally came down from the passionate high. She caressed his back
and face and neck and arms and kissed him gently on the lips.
She smiled at him and pushed him onto his back.
She snuggled into him and laid her head on his chest listening to his
heart slow to a normal pace, already imagining how they would start again. “Perhaps something
from the fridge?” He smiled
mischievously and nodded.” “The End” “Fuck, luv.” “Yes? ;-)” “Did you come up with that just now?” “It’s a piece I’ve been playing with in my head.
Thanks for helping me get it written down…It’s rough, but I’ll
polish it later.” “It was pretty fuckin’ hot as it was.
Do you really think of me when you write like this?” “Well, it ain’t called SMUSSELL for George Clooney,
y’know! Then we’d have to call
it SWOONEY, I should think.” “Smussell????!!!!” “Uh, yeah…Smut + Russell = Smussell.” Russell almost choked on the sip of bourbon he had in his mouth. “I don’t know whether to be flattered or plonked.” “I like the first one…” “So, baby, what are we gonna do with this hard-on you’ve
given me?” “<blush> You’re
a big boy. Whaddaya wanna do with
it?” “<blush>, indeed!
I think you owe me a release…or two…” “Bit difficult through cyberspace, but I’ll wait for you
if you wait for me…” So she was getting hot and bothered too, eh?
“LMARTFO!!! Fuck,
Russell, you would be so much fun, wouldn’t you?” “Why don’t you try and find out?” “What are you saying?” “I think you know exactly
what I’m saying.” “I’m NOT saying it first…” “Fine, you shy little sheila, I’ll say it.
COME HERE.” “oh
fuck” “Yeah, you heard me…” “Do you mean it?” “Are you in the car yet?” “Oh, shit.” “I don’t hear an engine revving…” “’Kay, enough. If
you’re teasing me, it stopped being funny two sentences ago.” “Who said anything about teasing?
Here, this’ll prove it to ya.” Russell picked up a pad of the stationary from the hotel.
Took a digital pic of him holding it next to his face.
He was tempted to take a pic of it next to his cock, but thought better
of it at the last second. Attach. Send. “All right, big boy. You
asked for it. Cell phone # is
714-555-2472 if ya change your mind…” The next thing Russell saw appear on the screen was a message from the
MSN computer. “User sidsgirl@xxx.com
has logged off.”
Russell went over to the phone and dialed up the front desk. “Yeah, mate, I’m calling from the Presidential suite.
I got a visitor who should be arriving in about half an hour.
Her name’s,” he scrolled quickly through the emails looking for the
only one she had signed, “…Sarah Runyon.
Yeah, I understand, check her ID if ya hafta, but she’s cleared to come
up, okay, mate? Yeah, thanks.” Russell hung up and poured another bourbon.
He smoked a ciggie as he waited ten minutes, then dialed the number she
had given him. “It’s Fuck, what a bloody sex kitten
voice! “It’s me, luv.” “Changed your mind, Mr Crowe?” “Not at all. Just wanted to
talk while you drive. How is it that
you’re able to just get up and drive to LA at this hour?” “I assume you’re wondering if there’s anyone who will be concerned.
I’m what you would call between attachments at the moment.
And all my family is in other parts of the world.” “Sarah.” “That’s me.” “This is the strangest thing I’ve ever done.” “Keep your hands and arms inside at all times until the ride has come
to a complete and full stop.” “Is that a philosophical way of saying we should just cruise?” “What else is there to do? Rock
and Roll, baby, full weight.” “Where are you?” “About to get on the 105. And,
Russell?” “Yeah?” “This is very surreal.” “I’m with ya, baby. But
let’s do it anyway.” “’Kay.” “So how long have you been writing?” “Since I was nine.” “Are you published?” “No, sadly, I haven’t been properly motivated
until recently.” Russell chuckled. “What
motivated you recently, luv?” He heard her laugh. It was
low and throaty and he shifted in his chair to make room for his hardening cock
inside his pants. He said, “Are you kiddin’ me?” “No.” “And what are ya doin’ about it?” “I finished one novel, and am taking the steps to get it published.
I've started a second novel as well as writing, uh, y’know, that,
pretty much non-stop, and that can be taken fairly literally.” “Bloody Oath, luv.” “That’s what I said. Well,
it was a bit more of an American curse, but the same idea.”
She giggled. “It’s been
quite a ride.” “Sarah?” “Yeah, Russell?” “You’re really on you’re way?” “Yes, of course.”
“Why?” “Because you asked me to.” “But, technically, you don’t know me…” “Hold on. Are you
thinkin’ I’m this slut who drops what she’s doing to fuck a good-lookin’
celebrity? Cuz if ya are, there’s
an exit coming up, I can turn around and go home.” “Oh, no, luv, don’t. I
only meant that, ah, fuck, I’m not a slut either, y’know.” There was a long pause, then he heard her voice again.
“I know that. Look, I don’t
know you. Fine.
You don’t know me. Fine,
too. What did you think we were
doing then? Isn’t it possible, no
matter how odd it is, that we’ve made a connection and our sleep deprived
selves are working on pure instinct? Come
on, dude, we may not know each other, but I don’t think any less of you cuz
you convinced me to get in my car and come be with you.
It’s a whole new world, baby. Just
pretend ya saw me in a bar. Work for
you?” Russell grinned and then found himself laughing, hard.
“So what you’re sayin’ is, we just had ourselves a twenty-first
century pick up scene.” “Sounds about right.” “I can live with that.” “So, are ya still in the mood? Or
am I gonna hafta smussell at you again?” “Oh, darlin’ that voice of yours…What you do to me.
When are ya gonna get here?” He heard her say, “Thank you,” but not directly to him.
Then he heard the distinct sound of high heels on marble floor. “Oh, fuck, you’re here.” She laughed at him again, huskily. “Yes.
Hang on.” Russell heard her exchanging words with what must have been the front
desk bloke. Heard her give her name
and then heard her confirm his floor and room information.
Then the heels across marble again. “Wow, Russell, the Presidential Suite.
Ooh, la, la! Tres
magnifique!” He groaned. “Not French,
not that voice of yours speaking French!
Get the fuck up here, woman!”
Throaty laugh, once more. “Voulez
vous couchaize, baby, that’s all I know…Well, that and Mercy Buckups.”
Suddenly her voice dipped another tone and she sounded like she had lived
in Russell was writhing. “Oh,
fuck, baby.” “I theenk we establish that already, comrade.
Perhaps you haf forgotten? You
haf inwited me for a romp in your sack, da?” “Da. I mean, yes!
Where the fuck are you?” There was a knock on his door and in his ear, a throaty Russian voice
saying, “I am here, comrade. Please
to open door so I might enter and play vith your delectable hide.” Russell was at the door to his hotel room faster than you could say
“Yuri Gagarin”. He threw open the door and saw the pretty little brunette standing there,
cell phone in hand which she promptly closed with a snap.
He grabbed her wrist, drew her into the room, closed the door and then
pushed her up against it. He grabbed
the back of her neck and pulled her in for a kiss, parting her lips with his
tongue and happily felt her melt into him with a soft whimper. They broke apart briefly and she said, still maintaining the accent,
though a bit more breathless than before, “I theenk I am in correct room,
da?” He smiled at her and pulled her to him for another kiss. “Absolutely the correct room, luv, da.” They stood apart for a second, as the absurdity of their situation sank
in. Giggling nervously, Russell led
her into the sitting area. “Some wodka, I theenk, would go down nicely, comrade
Roosty.” Russell, watching her from the corner of his eye as she prowled around
the room, dropping off her purse on the coffee table, poured each of them a
drink. “Wodka” for her, bourbon
for him. As he gave her the drink,
he noted that she was wearing a simple black miniskirtted dress and black high
heels, her short black hair curled in the sweetest mass about her head.
There was an ebony stone hanging about her neck, that lay just above the
curve of her breasts. Set against
her lightly tanned skin, it shone darkly. As
he handed her the glass, he saw a silver thumb ring on her right hand and a gold
watch with an odd little black bangle on the left. Having spoken almost non-stop for an hour and a half by various modes of
technology, they were both oddly silent. They
edged about the room, sizing each other up, feeling the situation, wanting to
act, testing the waters, waiting to see who would stick in the first toe. “Sarah?” “Yeah, Russell?” He walked over to her purposefully, placing his glass down on a nearby
table and then took her hand in his. He
turned it up towards him, and bent to kiss her palm.
She put a tentative hand out and slowly twined her hands through his
hair. That did it. He pulled her to him again, all thoughts of strangeness leaving his mind
completely. In fact, he thought,
pretty sure it was the last rational thought he’d have for awhile, nothing
felt strange anymore. He let his hands slide down her body, but when his hands reached her hips
he paused. He looked at her
quizzically and she smiled lopsidedly at him, a wicked look in her eye.
His hands continued down past the edge of her skirt and then he traveled
back up, pulling the skirt up with them. As she gasped at where his hands found themselves, he said huskily in her
ear, “Luv, you forgot your knickers.” “I don’t believe I did, young sir.
I believe I left them off on purpose.” Russell groaned. Grabbed her
up into his arms and marched back into the bedroom.
“Let me just say that while this is going to probably be much quicker
than I intend, it’s not going to be the only time I ravish you tonight, so be
kind.” She giggled against his neck deliciously.
“Why, Mr Crowe! Where’s
that world-renowned romantic I’ve read so much about?” He pitched his voice just so
and said into her ear, “Right here, baby.”
And relished the shiver that went through her.
He placed her on the bed and opened a drawer in the bedside table.
When she saw what he was reaching for, she stopped his hand. “I have a clean bill of health and a prescription for the pill and
proof of both in my purse, if you’d like to forego that.” He smiled wickedly and dropped the condom back in the drawer.
“Now why would you be carrying a doctor’s note around in your
purse?” “Funny, that. I got it in
the mail two days ago and just haven’t cleaned out the old handbag, yet.
Seriously, I’ll go get it.” She
actually hopped off the bed and was out in the living room pulling out an
envelope from her purse, as he saw when he followed her. She handed it to him, with a grin. “Can’t
be too careful these days, baby.” He crushed the envelope in his hand as she still held it and dipped his
head to kiss her. She’s just the right height, he thought fleetingly.
And then his desire took him over and he pushed her onto the couch, all
thoughts of making his way back to the bedroom again, gone.
He kissed her neck just where the shoulder sloped up and dropped his
hands down her body. “Oh, God, Russell, YES!” she groaned as his hands grabbed her hips
and pulled her into him. He was
harder than he’d been in ages and felt a jolt go through him as her hands
busied themselves at his fly. He
raised himself up slightly to help out, but could not keep his hands from her
body. Before she had finished
undoing his pants, he had her arms above her head, removing the dress from her. “Fuck, luv, you’re wearin’ nothin’ under here.” Sarah giggled huskily and crinkled her face at him in that pixie smile.
“I know! Ain’t it
cool?” “Oh my God!” Russell
groaned and bent to her breasts. Unable
to decide where to start he just lowered his head and enjoyed himself. Her breathing increased to a rate that actually interrupted his bliss.
He pulled himself away and reached up to pull her into another kiss.
His hand trailed down and he groaned at how wet she was for him.
He felt her hands in his hair, around his ass then she pulled away from
their kiss and pushed him back forcefully. “What the fuck, Sarah?!” “All right, Mr Crowe. Time
to get these trousers off, don’t you think?” “Yes, ma’am,” he responded, laughing as she pushed his hands away
and busied herself at his fly once again. When
she stopped and stared, he just giggled. |
