A Life in Hollywood
Chapter 15 - Daisy Ridley and Taylor Swift - Part 1
October 2014, Los Angeles
Osiah lay flat on his back in the king bed of his rented apartment, arms bent, hands laced behind his head. The morning light filtering through the blinds painted pale stripes across the ceiling. Between his spread thighs, Daisy Ridley's head bobbed steadily, her lips stretched tight around his cock. She was completely naked, knees tucked under her, the smooth curve of her back arching slightly as she worked.
Daisy had a lean, athletic build—small but firm tits with soft pink nipples, a narrow waist that flared into surprisingly full hips, and a tight, rounded ass that flexed every time she shifted her weight. Her skin was pale and smooth, still carrying a faint tan line from some recent outdoor shoot. A few freckles dotted her shoulders. Right now her dark hair was messy, falling across her face as she took him deeper, one small hand wrapped around the thick base while the other rested on his hip for balance.
She'd shown up twenty minutes earlier with two coffees and a shy, excited smile, still buzzing from the Star Wars audition news that had the whole town whispering. One thing led to another fast. Clothes came off, and now her warm, wet mouth was working him with focused enthusiasm.
Her tongue swirled around the head on every slow upstroke, teasing the sensitive underside before she sank back down. Soft, rhythmic slurps filled the quiet room, mixed with the occasional quiet gluck when she took him especially deep and her throat fluttered around him. Strings of spit ran down his shaft and over her fingers. Whenever she pulled back for air, her eyes flicked up to meet his—brown, bright, a little watery but full of playful heat.
Osiah's abs tightened as she hollowed her cheeks and sucked harder. "Fuck, Daisy… just like that."
She hummed around him, the vibration shooting straight down his cock. Her free hand slid up his thigh, nails lightly scratching, then back down again as she bobbed faster. The wet sounds grew louder, messier. Her small tits swayed gently with the motion, nipples hard from the cool morning air and her own arousal.
His phone buzzed on the nightstand. Osiah glanced over. Taylor Swift.
He answered without moving his hands from behind his head. "Hey."
Taylor's voice came through bright and a little breathless, like she was walking fast between buildings or rushing down a hallway. "Osiah. Hi. You busy right now?"
Daisy didn't stop. If anything she slowed down deliberately, taking him deeper into her throat with a quiet, wet gluck. Her tongue pressed flat along the underside as she held him there for a long second, throat fluttering softly around his cock.
"Not really," Osiah said, voice perfectly steady. "What's up?"
Taylor let out that easy, familiar laugh he'd already heard on a dozen morning shows this week. "I'm in LA doing the whole radio circus. Good Morning America this morning—they had me doing that segment where I had to guess celebrity baby photos while trying not to spill coffee everywhere. Then a bunch of afternoon spots. Jimmy Kimmel tonight, I think. I'm dying. My feet are killing me from these heels they keep making me wear, and my voice is starting to go from talking nonstop. Any chance you're free for dinner tonight? Just us. I need one normal meal that isn't scheduled or photographed or turned into a headline."
Daisy hollowed her cheeks again and sucked harder, her hand twisting gently around the base in a slow corkscrew motion. Osiah's abs flexed visibly, a sharp twitch running through his stomach, but his tone stayed even.
"Yeah, I can do dinner. Where?"
"Somewhere low-key? I'm staying at the Chateau Marmont. I can have them set something up in the bungalow if you want it private. Or we can go out somewhere quiet. Your call."
Osiah felt Daisy's throat flutter and squeeze around him as she held him deep for another long second, her nose brushing his stomach. He exhaled slowly through his nose, keeping his breathing controlled.
"Bungalow sounds good. Eight o'clock work?"
"Perfect." Taylor sounded genuinely relieved, a smile clear in her voice. "God, thank you. I've done like a billion appearances in the last four days. Radio rows where every DJ asks the same three questions, teaser performances at a couple small clubs to test the new songs—last night I did this tiny venue in Silver Lake and someone in the front row tried to hand me a marriage proposal written on a napkin mid-song. I almost cracked up right there on stage. Photo shoots where they keep changing my outfits every five minutes because nothing photographs 'pop enough.' I'm starting to sound like a robot on autopilot. It'll be nice to talk to someone who doesn't want a quote or a selfie or to ask me for the hundredth time if the album is really a full pop shift."
Daisy pulled off just long enough to catch her breath. Thick strings of spit connected her swollen lips to his glistening cock. She stroked him slowly with both hands now, twisting gently, thumb brushing over the head to spread her spit. She looked up at him with a small, amused smile, eyes sparkling with mischief as she listened to the one-sided conversation.
"You must have done a billion appearances right now," Osiah said into the phone, repeating her words back with a little grin in his voice.
Taylor laughed again, louder this time, warm and genuine. "Exactly. You get it. The 1989 teasers have been nonstop. Little club shows where I play a couple new tracks and the crowd loses their minds because they've never heard them before. Radio stations wanting the full story on leaving country behind—like, yes, I wrote these songs on a guitar in my kitchen and now they sound like this, deal with it. Morning TV where they make me do those cheesy segments. This morning on GMA they had me guessing baby photos of celebrities and I completely blanked on one of them. I said it was Ryan Gosling as a kid and it was actually Justin Timberlake. The hosts wouldn't let it go. I wanted to crawl under the desk. My legs are sore from all the stage running around in heels, and I swear my smile muscles are exhausted. Anyway, eight o'clock. I'll text you the bungalow number."
"See you then."
He hung up. Daisy immediately sank back down, taking him all the way to the root in one smooth motion. Her nose pressed against his stomach, throat working around him with tight, rhythmic squeezes.
"Fuck," Osiah muttered, one hand finally dropping to rest on the back of her head, fingers threading through her messy hair. "That was Taylor Swift."
Daisy made a soft, affirmative hum around his cock. The vibration shot straight through him, making his hips twitch. She started moving faster, head bobbing with clear purpose now, wet sounds getting louder and messier—obscene slurps and quiet gags as she pushed herself. Her small tits swayed and bounced lightly with the rhythm, nipples tight. Spit ran down his shaft and over her fingers, dripping onto his balls.
Osiah's grip tightened gently in her hair, not forcing her, just guiding. "Shit, Daisy… keep going."
She did, hollowing her cheeks on the upstroke, tongue swirling around the head before plunging back down. Her free hand cupped his balls, massaging them softly while she sucked. The room filled with the slick, rhythmic sounds of her mouth and throat working him—wet pops when she pulled back for air, greedy little hums when she took him deep again.
Osiah's breathing grew heavier. "You're too good at that."
Daisy pulled off for a second, stroking him fast with both hands, lips shiny and swollen. "Taylor Swift, huh?" she teased, voice a little raspy. "Big plans tonight?"
"Something like that." He grinned down at her. "Don't stop."
She laughed softly and sank back down, taking him even deeper this time. Her throat fluttered and squeezed as she held him there, eyes watering but locked on his. Osiah groaned low, hips twitching up. Daisy took it, swallowing around him, then started bobbing again with renewed energy.
The blowjob turned filthier—long, sloppy strokes, her tongue flat and pressing, spit everywhere. She moaned around him, the vibrations pushing him closer. Osiah's hand stayed in her hair, thumb brushing her cheek.
He hung up. Daisy immediately sank back down, taking him all the way to the root in one smooth motion. Her nose pressed against his stomach, throat working around him.
"Fuck," Osiah muttered, one hand finally dropping to rest on the back of her head, fingers threading through her hair. "That was Taylor Swift."
Daisy made a soft, affirmative hum around his cock. The vibration shot straight through him. She started moving faster, head bobbing with clear purpose now, wet sounds getting louder and messier—obscene slurps and gags as she pushed herself. Her small tits swayed and bounced lightly with the rhythm. Spit ran down his balls and dripped onto the sheets.
Osiah's hips twitched up once, twice. "Shit, Daisy… I'm close."
She didn't pull off. Instead she took him even deeper, throat squeezing rhythmically, eyes watering but locked on his the whole time. One hand cupped his balls gently, massaging them as she sucked. Osiah groaned low and came hard, thick spurts pulsing straight down her throat. Daisy swallowed every drop without hesitation, then kept him in her mouth, sucking gently through the aftershocks. Her tongue moved lazy and affectionate along the underside, milking the last little pulses.
When he finally softened she let him slip free with a wet pop. A thin string of spit still connected her lower lip to the head of his cock. She rested her cheek against his thigh, breathing hard, and pumped his spent shaft slowly with one hand. Soft, lingering kisses pressed along the length, from base to tip.
Osiah ran his fingers through her messy hair, brushing it back from her face. "Who knew when me and Emilia Clarke saw you at that restaurant you'd actually audition and get the Star Wars role."
Daisy giggled, the sound warm and a little hoarse from the throat fucking. She nuzzled closer, still slowly stroking him with lazy affection, pressing another kiss just below the head. "That encounter with you two was a good omen, really. I was so nervous that night. I remember walking in and seeing you guys at the table and thinking, 'Okay, don't trip over your own feet in front of actual working actors.' You both made me feel like I wasn't completely insane for believing I could do it. Emilia was so sweet, and you just… talked to me like a normal person. No weird Hollywood bullshit. It stuck with me."
She gave the head one last gentle, lingering kiss, tongue flicking out playfully, then pushed herself up onto her knees. Her body looked even better in the morning light—lean muscle under soft curves, small tits flushed pink, nipples still tight. A faint sheen of sweat glowed on her collarbone and between her breasts.
"I should get going," she said reluctantly, climbing off the bed. "Early call time today. They've got me doing more movement stuff for the role."
They padded into the bathroom together. Daisy rinsed her mouth at the sink, then splashed water on her face. Osiah stood behind her, hands on her hips, watching her in the mirror while he splashed his own face. She leaned back against him for a moment, ass pressing lightly against his softening cock, and smiled at their reflection.
"Last night was fun," she said quietly. "And this morning too. Thanks for… letting me come over."
"Anytime," he replied, giving her ass a light squeeze.
Daisy turned, rose up on her toes, and gave him a quick, sweet kiss—soft and affectionate, no pressure. She tasted faintly of toothpaste now. "I'll text you later if I survive the day."
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