1 comments/ 13057 views/ 1 favorites Jackman Breaks Loose Ch. 01 By: shandal Pressure builds, and he bolts. Where can he find some peace and quiet, and someone who doesn't know who he is? Hugh Jackman finds an oasis of calm and hot sex, away from the spotlight. This is a fantasy, and in no way reflects a real incident, nor do I wish to cause concern or upset to Mr Jackman and his family in anyway with this erotic story. However if you are the sexiest man alive, you must realise you are the centre of many a person's erotic dreams. * The PR people were driving him crazy. Do this, go there, meet this person, and have a photo taken with that person. The whole last month had been intense, with the worldwide promotional tour for the new film taking over his life. Smiling and being nice to people was usually so easy, but lately, with the past year, the back to back filming, PR tours, the Oscars, and production work it was becoming too much. He just needed some space. Staring across the room at the camera set up ready to film yet another interview, with the same old questions, the same well rehearsed stories and the same old need to project himself, it was all getting to be a pain in the butt. Deb and the kids weren't due for another week, and although he normally enjoyed meeting people, and being the centre of attention, he was wishing he could just break loose, and be invisible for a while. Even last night, when he met up with his half sister for a late night meal in a London Restaurant, people were filming him with their mobiles as he ate, and he knew, within hours the recordings would be up on YouTube for all to see. No privacy allowed. The crew all stood in front of him, sound man, cameraman, PR people, lighting and the Studio bodies, all waiting for the next in the back to back line of press people to sit in the chair across for where he sat, and to record the ten minutes of allotted time that would be used to promote the new film out to the public on some TV programme. Part of the marketing of the product, he knew it was so very important, but somehow, so far from what he dreamt of as a drama student all those years ago. In walked a blond woman, her overpowering scent wafting across to him before she arrived. Why did woman do that? Overdo the perfume. Didn't they know that their own individual scents were usually much more erotic than the synthetic ones? Standing up, he smiled one of his killer smiles and taking her hand, leant forward to kiss her cheek, before indicating where to sit. Settling down into position he asked her, "Sam the PR man says you're fairly new to the early morning show, how's it going?" As she started to answer, the make up girl came over and dusted some more powder on his forehead, so that the ice breaking answer was almost lost. "I love it, it was such an opportunity for me, and getting to interview you as my first guest is so exciting. I've followed your career for years, ever since 'The Fountain', such a romantic film." Laughing a little ironically, he replied, as the hair person started to run her fingers through his hair, making sure it was looking at its best for the camera. "Not one of my more popular films, too esoteric for most people, but it's one of my favourite roles." "A deep and thoughtful film." "Yeah, Darren Aronofsky's direction was a joy to work with." There was a settling of everyone as they all walked back, leaving the two people, sitting in front of the large poster advertising the new film, the opening date in big letters across the top, waiting ready to be filmed. "And roll camera, ready Hugh, ready sound, let's go." Settling into his interview persona, smiling and flirting outrageously with his eyes, he focused on the woman, answering her questions about the film, his work out regime, what he thought about being back here in England, and whether it was true about him doing a new re make of Carousel later in the year. Telling her the well rehearsed story of how his father came dressed in a tuxedo to watch him sing Carousel at Carnegie Hall years ago, his mind wandered back to a time when he could walk about, unnoticed, before the fame, when the hunger for good parts and work was there, and it all seemed so exciting. Where had the last fourteen years gone. It had all happened so fast, and most of the time he felt like it was out of his control. He yearned for just a break, a small break, where he could kick out, be the old Hugh he was way back when, before the responsibility, the fame, the people staring at him, and behaving himself. When the allotted ten minutes were up, he stood and joked with the blond, telling her how much he enjoyed meeting her, and as she left, along with her film crew, he sat sipping at the bottle of water, as the throng of people moved and shifted around him, setting up the next interview, the next set of similar questions, the well rehearsed stories to be trotted out. Yesterday he had filmed the Jonathan Ross show segment to go out tomorrow night, and later today he was meeting up with Studio suits to discuss another possible project to be filmed in about two years time. It felt like he was on a treadmill, never ending. Putting his hand in his pocket he felt the envelope that had been handed to him early this morning by his assistant, but hadn't got around to opening. Pulling it out, and turning it over in his hand as the noise around him bubbled, people doing their jobs, setting up new camera's, PR people fussing, assistants ordering food on the hotel phone, he noticed the writing said his name in a strong script across the front. Ripping open the envelope he pulled out the letter, along with the ticket clipped to the one page sheet. Reading quickly and then holding up the ticket in his hand he smiled to himself. Well here might be the answer to his problems. Earlier this year he had inadvertently mentioned that the English Soccer team he supported was Norwich City. It was during an interview with some guy who was so off field he had made him laugh the whole time, appealing to his sense of humour. Hearing he was in town, the guy had sent a ticket for the match on Saturday, along with the note of thanks for the last interview, and please enjoy the match as his guest. Calling over his assistant, he asked, "What is booked for the weekend, what have I got set?" "Saturday we just have some one on one's with some magazines, and you have Sunday off." "What about tomorrow night? What time is the recording going to finish?" "You mean the Graham Norton Show. You should be out of there by about six thirty. Why?" "Clear Saturday for me, I don't care how you do it, just do it. Rearrange the one on ones to another day next week, and see if you can hire me a car, a nice unobtrusive one, to be at the studio after Graham Norton as I am going away for the weekend." The look of panic on the assistants face was classic. Glancing behind him at the PR people and the studio bodies, he frowned. "Not sure if they're going to be too happy about this Hugh." "Tough, they have my soul for the six weeks; I'm entitled to a couple of days on my own. Set up the break for me and tell them I'll do that interview with Howard Stern for them in return. They'll buy that." Noticing the next body to come into interview him, a friendly looking man, with salt and pepper hair and an orange tan, he stuffed the ticket and letter in his pocket and stood up to shake hands, suddenly feeling more refreshed than he had ten minutes ago. * Climbing into the Silver Mercedes Series 6 convertible, he looked up at Clive his assistant and laughing said, "So this is the most inconspicuous car they could find?" "Closing the trunk of the car, where he had just stowed the weekend bag with Hugh's stuff, he walked up to the side of the car and leaning in the window pointed out, "For the Studio, this is as plain and simple as you get." Turning the key in the ignition, he floored the gas, "See you on Sunday night." and in a flourish was gone into the London Friday evening traffic, lost amongst the rush hour, fighting his way across town to get to the motorway leading to the North East and Norwich. Finally feeling like he was free, he turned on the radio, and finding a station, listened to the drive time show, a mixture of music, phone in, mayhem and traffic information. Singing along with the Stones, he relaxed even more, remembering that crazy Russian interview for Wolverine: The Origins, when he had sung along with the Russian guys to the Stones song Satisfaction. Many of the Eastern countries that he did interviews in expected him to do crazy things, and being a person who never said no, he would just go for it, usually having fun, but even someone as sociable as he was needed to have some space, and this weekend he intended to cut loose from all the pressure and just chill. Leaving London behind him took a while, the traffic stopping and starting, the crazy narrow streets and abundance of roadwork's making the journey slow and painful, but he didn't care, he was alone for the first time in ages, no pressure, no call on his time, no watchful eyes. Just him, the radio, and the freedom of road. Eventually reaching the M11 he kicked down on the speed, the car moving smoothly along, a steady speed of 80 mph, overtaking Lorries and other cars, aiming for the turn off at Cambridge. Not having any idea where he was going to stay, he had decided to do as he had as young man. Stop and find a bed and breakfast somewhere in the sticks. Hopefully he would be unrecognised and if he left it late to stop, maybe closer to Norwich, he could just slip in somewhere, grab something to eat and have an early night. An hour and a half later he was driving up the A11, the small villages going past in a blur, when the car started to slow down. Pumping the gas, he frowned, looking at the fuel gage. Plenty there, a quarter full. The water seemed OK, no light, and no blinking light for the oil. So why was the car slowing down, now giving the odd shudder, as he kept going moving forward, trees and fields all around, the darkness unbroken by any sign of street lights, trying to keep going until he came across some form of civilisation. Eventually the car came to a grinding halt, and hitting the steering wheel with his palm he grunted. Damn, damn, damn. Pulling out the mobile from his jacket slung on the chair next to him, he tried to dial, only to find no signal. No damn signal, a broken car, and in the middle of nowhere. Well he wanted peace and quiet and it looked as if he had it. Deathly quiet. Looking out at the high thick trees around him, he tried to remember how far back the last house had been. About a couple of miles in his estimation. There was nothing else left to do, but get out and walk back, see if he could use their phone and get someone to help get the car going. Grabbing his jacket and locking up the car, he started the walk back up the road. Half way there the heavens opened up, the rain pouring down in torrents, soaking him completely, rain dripping off his nose and hair, he ran the rest of the way, until he came to a small cottage set back from the road behind a stone wall, a bright green chipped door with a large brass knocker sitting dead centre. Hunched up, trying to avoid the deluge, he hovered under the small porch, as he waited for the door to open to his knock. Listening to the sound behind the door, he heard a dog bark, and then slowly the door opened, revealing a beautiful woman, her long blond hair framing a delicate heart shaped face. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but my car has broken down further up the road. I tried to phone for help, but there's no mobile signal. I don't suppose I could use your phone to call for assistance." He watched as the woman, the large dog at her side, stare out quietly into the gloom of the night. After a pause she stepped back, opening the door and gesturing him to enter. "Of course, the phone is on the table in the lounge, please come in out of the rain." Stepping into the unlit hall, he started to wipe his feet, "I had better take off my shoes. I'm dripping wet and I don't want to mess up your home." Slipping off his shoes, he followed her into the small and cosy lounge and walking over to the small side table, picked up the phone and stood wondering who to call. "Sorry, but do you know a local garage, or have a phone book around. I'm not a local, and not sure of who to call?" Stepping forward out of a shadow, he noticed the woman looking towards him, but not quite head on, and with a shock realised she was blind. Her lovely light grey eyes unfocused, the small frown on her face as she listened intently to him and thought about an answer. "Sorry, I don't drive, so not sure of a local garage, and I don't have a phone book, but I can phone a friend of mine, Sarah, and see if she can tell us who she uses." Stepping forward, she reached for the phone, her arm knocking against his. Stepping back he apologised, "Sorry." Watching as she picked up and dialled the number, waiting for it to be picked up at the other end. She was slim and tall, her skin a clear soft peach, unblemished by make up. The soft smell of lavender teased his nose and his eyes moved down to the small swell of her breasts where her plain silk blouse draped over the sweet mounds, the start of a gentle cleavage visible where the two sides of the top lay undone. "Sarah, hi, it's Grace. I have a stranded motorist in need of a garage. Do you know one?" Listening to her friend, she stood there in front of him, the dog nudging her leg, her free hand rubbing the dogs' ear as she spoke with her friend. "Okay I'll put him on." Holding out the handset towards him, she told him, "Sarah says she knows someone who will take a call at this time of night, here she'll tell you all about them." Taking the handset he said hi to the voice at the other end, and listened as she explained that the nearest garage she knew was about ten miles up the road, run by a man named Dave, and gave him the number to call. Thanking her he put down the handset, and then redialled, calling the garage, waiting for it to answer. A woman's voice came on the line, and after explaining the situation to her, she told him that Dave was out dealing with the towing of another stranded vehicle and not expected back for at least three hours, but as soon as he returned she would get him to call. Hugh looked up at the beautiful woman, and told her, "He's out on a job, not expected back for some time, could I sit here and wait for the call?" "Of course, give them my number and I'll make some coffee for us." As she walked out the room, the dog following, Hugh called out, "what's your number?" Turning around, she gave a small laugh, the sound melting him, a deep and sweet sound, "Whoops, sorry." and told him her number for him to give to the voice at the end of the line. * Sitting in front of the fire, his once damp clothes now dry, the hot coffee and a sandwich warming his insides, he watched as she gracefully curled her legs under her, the short black skirt riding up her thighs, revealing long slim limbs, the skin tight and smooth. "You're an Australian aren't you?" Smiling he retorted, "How can you tell?" Laughing she replied, "Your accent. But I can hear a little twang of American in there." "I live in the states, New York. How long have you lived here?" "All my life, I was born in the cottage and inherited it from my mother when she died three years ago. What are you doing over here? Are you on holiday?" Not sure what to say and not wanting to give himself away he answered as truthfully as he could without saying too much. "I'm over here on business, but was taking a break this weekend to go up to Norwich to watch the soccer. How about you, what do you do? I mean do you work?" "Yes, I write for a living. Erotic literature." Hugh sat staring at the angelic woman sitting in front of him, stunned at her reply, her sightless eyes staring into the middle distance, the dog asleep on the floor in front of her. "Erotic literature?" "Yes. Do I hear a touch of prudish judgement in your voice?" Rushing to reassure her, he stammered, "N..n.. no, it's just, well I didn't expect. Ummm...." Laughing she told him, "What did you think, just because I'm blind I don't now about sex? " "Look I didn't mean to sound judgemental, I was just a little shocked. Your so beautiful and a little delicate looking, it kind of sits at an odd tangent to everything. The pretty cottage, your looks, the fact that you're......" "Blind." she helpfully filled in for him in the silence. "Yes. I seem to keep putting my foot in my mouth, don't I?" "Yes, but don't worry, I'm used to it. By the way, I'm Grace, what's your name?" "Hugh." "Well Hugh, I like to know who I'm talking to, and what they look like, so with your permission I would like to feel your face and get an idea of how you look so I can keep a picture of you in my minds eye." Standing up, she walked across to where he sat, and gently placing her hands on his face proceeded to run her soft fingers over his features, his nose, his eyes, his mouth, his cheeks. Running down the creases each side of his nose, she smiled, "You have a good face, and I can tell you smile a lot." Unable to answer, where ever her fingers had touched leaving a warm tingle, Hugh found the simple progress around his face so erotic, his breath catching in his throat, his heartbeat heavy in his chest. When she moved her hands around towards his ears, her soft fingers touching the curls and dips he groaned, and watched as the tip of her tongue poked out between her lips in concentration. "What colour hair do you have Hugh?" her hands now touching his thick brushed back hair. "Dark brown. Almost black." Moving back down from his hair, to his cheeks and chin, she felt the stubble, almost always present, before stepping back and returning to her seat opposite him. "Very masculine. You're very good looking." "Thank you. You're very beautiful." "Thank you." There settled a peaceful silence between them, until she dropped the bomb into the silence, one he didn't expect, but one that he knew he would take up. "It's late, I'm going to bed, would you like to join me? I would very much like to explore your body with my hands and get to 'see' more of you." Standing up she held her hand out. Slowly he stood, and taking her hand in his followed her out of the room and towards the stairs. Led by his hand, the woman, blind and unable to see who he really was, unable to know his true identity, taking him for who he was and not what he did, offered him release from his reality for a short while. A release so very enticing, a small oasis in his crazy life filled with staring curious people all wanting a part of him, that he just let go and followed. Jackman Breaks Loose Ch. 02 Pressure builds, and he bolts. Where can he find some peace and quiet, and someone who doesn't know who he is? Hugh Jackman finds an oasis of calm and hot sex, away from the spotlight. This is a fantasy, and in no way reflects a real incident, nor do I wish to cause concern or upset to Mr Jackman and his family in anyway with this erotic story. However if you are the sexiest man alive, you must realise you are the centre of many a persons erotic dreams. * He watched as she stood by the big soft bed, the room in shadows, lit only by the moon and stars through the window. In the gloom her skin looked silver, her hair a rippling gold. The smell of lavender surrounded them, the only sounds in the room the rustle of material as she undid her blouse and his breathing as he watched, fascinated. Button by button she undid the soft white silk, revealing the pure white lace that gently held the two small swells of her breasts, curved and moving with each small breath she took. Undoing the buttons at the cuffs, she then reached down and pulled out the hem from where it was tucked into the waistband of the black straight skirt, shrugging it off her shoulders, all the time looking towards him with her sightless eyes, as if she could see him standing there transfixed and unsure. "Is this your first time?" "What!" "Your first time being unfaithful to your wife?" His face frowned and a hot flush ran up his cheeks, "How did you know I was married?" "Your ring, I felt it as I held your hand walking up the stairs. Is this your first time?" "Yes." Smiling she told him, "It won't count. It's just a moment in time, two people coming together for a small giving of pleasure, then going their separate ways, never to meet again." Stepping around the bed towards her, he ran his fingers through her hair, feeling its silky texture. "Why me? Someone you don't know." "Because I believe in taking pleasure where I can, when I can. Life is too short to worry and prevaricate. Each person has it in them to give and take. I believe tonight Hugh I want to give you pleasure, and ease the pressure I sense within you. Relax and enjoy." Raising her arms up to encircle his neck she lifted her face up towards his as his mouth came down to join it in a kiss, soft, slow, deep and wet. She felt his prickly stubble on her face, as their mouths and tongues entwined, sensuously getting acquainted in the age old dance, following each others lead, to explore the warm wet caverns. His muscles tightened as he gave way to the wonderful feeling of her lithe body pressed up against his. Arms holding her, one hand sweeping up to hold her head still, buried in the waterfall of her hair, he deepened the kiss, pressing hard upon her lips, groaning deep in his throat as their taste buds tasted the sweet nectar of each others passion. Slowly breaking the kiss, she stepped back, and undoing the fastening of her skirt, slipped it down her thighs to let it drop around her ankles, showing him the long lithe swell of her hips, soft flat belly indented with her navel, her womanhood encased in a small white silky throng, sensual and inviting. Swallowing deeply, he stared at her as she reached behind her body and undoing the bra, letting it slip down her arms to fall on the floor, revealing breasts that were perfect, unblemished and pert. Dark pink tips pointed up at him, hard and inviting, they stood out against her pale skin, like rose buds waiting to be plucked. Kneeling in front of her he kissed her belly, his hands resting each side of her hips; and lowered the skimpy throng, to kiss the silken curls that it barely hid. Feeling her hands run through his hair, he buried his face into her mound, smelling the musky scent of her sex, intoxicating, exhilarating and sensual. His head pounded as the excitement built inside him, and rising to his feet, he pulled the black polo shirt up over his head, throwing it behind him to land somewhere in the room, uncaring about where it fell. Her hands rose up, her long slender fingers touching his chest, the tips burrowing into the wiry hair that covered the hard and well defined muscles, and then moved, feeling and 'seeing' his body, as they roamed. Across his pectoral muscles, to the tight small nipples where her short nails scrapped, causing ripples of pleasure to explode in the sensitive nerve endings, his chest tightening with the delicious feelings. On and on her hands roamed over his strong body, mapping out her 'sight', following the dips and swells that he worked so hard to achieve in the gym each day, and that was demanded of him to maintain for his roles in the competitive hot house of the entertainment world. Down his torso they roamed, feeling his ribs, his six pack, his shoulders, his arms, and then she stood back, feeling for the bed, where she lay down, wantonly, her body open and waiting, legs slightly apart and knees slightly raised, arms up above her head, she offered him access to every part of her, open and freely given, un-judging and un-judged. Removing the rest of his clothes he knelt on the bed, his hands starting at her ankles, they glided up her long smooth shins, feeling the silky skin against his palms, until he reached her knees, and moving them more apart he lowered his head to sip at her most private place. His tongue reaching out to lick between the folds, finding her hard pearl inside its hood, he teased it with the warm hard tip of his tongue, swirling around, the musky taste and smell of her invading his senses, pulling him further into her web of desire. As her body arched, allowing him more access, her golden hair spread around her head, her sightless eyes stared up at the colours that pleasure brings inside her head. His hands reached around to hold the firm globes of her buttocks, holding her still, as he licked and nipped and sucked at the hard bud. Small gasps escaped her lips, her arms thrown up above her head grabbed at the headboard above her, dislodging pillows as she started to climb towards her first release. Hearing her pant, he left the place between her thighs, leaving her hanging part way up the pull of completion, his mouth wet with her moistness, and worked his way up her body, kissing a line from the golden curls, past the small indent of her navel, up her long lithe belly to her high, firm globes, capped by the dark hard peaks, and taking the enlarged and swollen nipples into his mouth repeated the actions that he had given to her clitoris.. Nails clawed at his back, her legs wrapped around his hips, inviting and insistent, but still he ignored the silent plea. Cupping her breasts in his hands he suckled and kneaded the rose petal soft mounds, squeezing the firm flesh, pushing the pointing tips higher into his mouth, where his teeth worried the hard buds, pulling at them, grazing them, biting them, feeling her writhe under his body, under his mouth, and inside his senses. They rubbed against each other, bodies entwined, kissing deeply, hands rubbing skin, squeezing and cupping, sweat glistening, muscles straining, they gave each other pleasure, moving closer towards the moment that they both needed, the freedom of animalistic letting go. The sounds in the room resonated with the two people, desperate and needing to connect. Two strangers, one blind, but seeing the isolation inside the other, the other that could see, and sensing the need for touch and connection within the woman under him, and willing to give to each other what was required. Hot sex. A moment's passion. That exhilarating high that tells each human we are alive, and our bodies working at the most primeval level. Pure and utter release, that most desirable of all our emotional highs. Her hand reached between the two bodies taking hold of his hard shaft, and rubbing it, so that the pre cum spilt out of the small eye at the head of the crown. Raising himself up, he arched his body, allowing more access. "Yes..." a deep avowal escaped his mouth, as she worked his rock hard member. He couldn't remember being so hard and excited so quickly for years, his erection stiff, his veins standing out and the tightness in his groin pulling at him, the complete focus of his attention, "Yes..." Lifting her hips up, she guided the solid cock to her tight wet hole, and with her legs pulled his hips down, so he entered her with a long deep sweep, stretching her inner walls as the muscles inside her ,welcoming him in, as if they knew him as an old lover, perfect and tight. Settling in, he threw back his head, absorbing the wonderful feeling of being inside of her, before he started to move, slowly at first, almost leaving the grabbing pulsing entrance before thrusting down, deep and true, his crown pushing up against the entrance to her womb, and then repeating the movement, time and again. On and on they went, climbing higher and higher, her hips moving in rhythm to each of his thrusts, faster and faster they danced, joined as one, the wet sounds of the movement as his manhood pummelled her soaking wet cunt joining in with the gasps and the moans that the man and woman made into the dark night surrounding them. Breathtaking, the dance of love seemed as natural as breathing, as the two lovers rose higher and higher towards orgasm, bodies straining, muscles tightening, lungs gasping, the pull became stronger until exploding, they came, his hot seed pumping into her, her muscles milking him, his balls tight and hot, all other thought lost except the one of utter gratification. * Later, laying languorous and replete besides her, his breathing returning to normal, he felt a small pang of remorse. Looking sideways as she lay, body lit by the moon, relaxed and calm, he pushed away the feelings, and curling to his side, his hand resting on her stomach, asked, "Tell me how you feel, is it different for you? Does your blindness make a difference to how you experience making love?" Smiling up at nothing, she laughed, "I don't know. Is it different? I'm not sure. I was born blind and know no other way or feeling. My other senses are very acute; my body feels the slightest touch, so I compensate for my blindness in many ways. How about you? How do you feel?" Hugh thought about it for a moment before answering. "I feel good. Better than good. Relaxed. For the first time in a few years, I feel relaxed and free. Thank you." "My pleasure......No regrets?" "No. No regrets." A gentle silence settled on them, as they lay luxuriating in the calmness of the room, until it was broken by the shrill sound of the ringing of the phone. Reaching across she felt for it on the bedside table, and picking the handset up and placing it to her ear listened before offering it to him, telling him, "It's for you. Dave the mechanic. He's back at the recovery garage." Taking the phone, he put the handset to his ear and with a heavy heart said, "Hello, is that Dave?" Jackman Breaks Loose Ch. 03 Pressure builds, and he bolts. Where can he find some peace and quiet, and someone who doesn't know who he is? Hugh Jackman finds an oasis of calm and hot sex, away from the spotlight. This is a fantasy, and in no way reflects a real incident, nor do I wish to cause concern or upset to Mr Jackman and his family in anyway with this erotic story. However if you are the sexiest man alive, you must realise you are the centre of many a persons erotic dreams. * They walked across the field hand in hand, the dog now in its harness, leading her, acting as her eyes. The early morning dew under foot wet the bottom of their jeans, and little puffs could be seen escaping from their mouths as their hot breath met the cold morning air. All was peaceful and quiet, except for the birdsong and the rustle of the trees around them. Hugh felt relaxed and calm, and looking around at the rustic scene, he realised that this was the first time in ages he had walked outside without being followed by Paparazzi or fans. Last night had been fantastic, the sex, the letting go, being accepted for being himself by Grace, who didn't know who he was, but just enjoyed him and his body, giving herself for pleasures sake. The whole experience was allowing him to get back in touch with himself, the person he thought he had lost. Dave the mechanic had agreed to pick up the car this morning and check it out, and he had the day ahead to enjoy, determined to just kick back and see what happens, to take advantage of being invisible for just one more day. Arriving back at the little cottage, he watched as Grace cooked breakfast, her deft fingers making light work of frying up the sausages and bacon, confident without her sight in her little kitchen, she knew where everything was, and moved around the space as if she could see. Although his diet normally did not include fried food, his mouth watered at the smell of the sizzling meat, and he looked forward to this small slip from his normal discipline with relish. Sitting opposite each other eating at the small table, he asked her about her life, her friends, and if she ever got lonely living in the cottage, isolated as she was. "Lonely, no of course not. I have my friends spread around the world. The wonder of the internet! I use an adapted computer, and the type is read out to me by screen reader technology." Hugh listened intently as she explained how she adapted to modern life, living by herself, unable to see. "I have a Braille printer, and my publisher sends me emails which I can either print out and read, or listen to them on my computer. The keyboard is tactile, and there is always the phone." Smiling, she indicated to the food on the plate in front of her. "My friend Sarah picks me up once a week to go shopping in Norwich, and if I need stuff between visits I can go online and order for delivery the same as everyone else." Getting up and starting to clear the table, she continued, "There are local quizzes down the pub, and I'm part of a four member quiz team. That's every Wednesday, and also Salsa on Friday nights at the local community centre. So you see I'm not as isolated as you like to think." Following her into the kitchen, his hands carrying his plate, he watched as hers went straight to the faucet and turned on the water in the sink. Always the actor, he noted her movements and tucked them into that part of his brain to use as reference for a later date. "Grace, you're a remarkable woman, I would love to read some of your work." "If you go into my study, you'll find my books on the shelf. Be my guest." Wandering through the cottage he came to a closed door, and opening it found a small room, filled with a desk, a computer taking up most of it, shelves of books behind, the sweet smell of lavender permeating the air from the potpourri on the windowsill. It was the smell he would always associate with Grace and this lost weekend from now on. It was her scent, light and sweet and natural. Just like her. Going through the books he found them to be a mix of Braille and type, and picking up a racy normal type book, Grace's name in black letters under the picture of a woman dishevelled and looking as if she had been raped on the cover, he turned around and went back into the small sitting room, finding the comfortable chair, and settling down to read. It was an hour later when he heard the doorbell ring, and Graces voice inviting Dave the mechanic to come in. Looking up, suddenly scared of being discovered and recognised, this small interlude of peace and quiet to be wrecked, he waited for the denouncement to come from the heavy set man in overalls entering the sitting room. "Hi I'm Dave, where's the keys. I'll go check out the car, see if I can fix it on the roadside. If not, I'll tow it to my garage, take a look and phone with the results." Hugh stood up, fishing into his jeans pocket for the keys. There was not a glimmer of recognition on the face of the mechanic, and inside he castigated himself for being the big Hollywood star, expecting everyone to know him, when in reality, here in the sticks of Norfolk, he was just another tourist, car broken down, needing help. Once Dave had left he went into the small office where Grace sat at her computer, typing, a radio playing, Liam Gallagher and Oasis singing 'Don't Look Back in Anger', the guitar riff echoing around the room, as Grace hummed along. Walking behind her, he leaned down, his hands resting on her slim shoulders, before sliding down, under the neck of her scooped neck top and her bra, to cup her breasts, the nipples growing hard against the palms of his hands. Gently squeezing the two mounds, he watched as she typed, the letters appearing on the screen in front of him, the synthesised voice reading out the words, almost lost by the sound of the music. Pinching her nipples, he watched as she slowed her typing, until she stopped, her head leaning back into his belly, her hands resting on the keyboard now forgotten as she absorbed the feelings assaulting her. Moving his hands, he lifted them until they held the cotton material of her top, along with her bra straps, and pulled it down her arms and torso, revealing her breasts, the stretched top holding her arms down at her sides, her small round globes, pert and high, exposed above the yellow cotton. Pinching and twisting the now hard buds, he heard her breath quicken, as he played with her, the sensitive nerve endings becoming even more responsive with each squeeze of his thumbs and fingers. Pulling her chair back, he moved to stand in front of her, before lowering himself to his knees, settling between her open thighs, and leaning forward took a nipple into the warm, wet heat of his mouth, whilst continuing his attention to her other with his fingers. Teeth bit gently, whilst his fingers pinched, and her gasp and movements became more intense, her hands raising up to hold his head to her breast, the fingers running through his thick hair. Working her he felt elated, her response was causing kinetic movement to her body, her thighs closed around his ribs as she used his torso to rub her crutch against, causing friction against her clit with the fabric of her jeans. Her body arching back into the chair, he could hear her panting, and he knew she was close to coming. Lathering the tight bud in his mouth, he then changed breasts, sucking the pebble hard tip deep inside his mouth before worrying it with his teeth, his other hand reaching to undo the fastening of her jeans. Pulling down the blue denim so that it gave enough space to place his hand he burrowed past her pants and pushing two fingers inside the damp tight hole, rubbed against the inner wall, slick and wet, finding the spot that made her yelp, whilst his thumb rubbed against the hard clit, slick with her juices. "There, Oh God, just there. Yesssss....." and within moments he felt the muscles inside her vibrate as her orgasm pulled at his fingers, trying to suck them in deeper and deeper, rippling and growing wetter as her body flew with pleasure. Sitting back on his heels, he watched as she lay slumped in her chair, replete and relaxed, her golden hair a cloud around her sweet face, her sightless grey eyes staring off into her own minds eye, a small smile upon her lips. "Such a nice gift, thank you Hugh." "My pleasure," Leaning against her leg, his arm and hand across her belly, he asked her, "Do you have a boyfriend? Someone you see regularly?" "No. No boyfriend, do you want to tell me about your wife?" "Not really. Just that we've been together now for fourteen years, and that I love her very much." Running the back of his fingers over the still exposed nipple on her left breast, he continued, "My life is complicated, and I have a lot of people I'm responsible for. Work has kind of taken on the speed of a runaway train, and I can't seem to get off." "Don't you enjoy it anymore? Your job?" "I love my job, I enjoy my work, it's everything else that goes with it that I'm finding difficult at the moment. The responsibility and drain on my time doesn't allow me the peace and solitude I'm finding right now with you." "Maybe that's all you need, a small space to recharge, to find your peace, and then go back to face whatever you need to face." Thinking about what she had said, he nodded, his eyebrows rising up on his forehead, not remembering that she couldn't see such a small gesture. He was so used to using his body language to convey thought and emotion, it being as intrinsic as using his voice, that she missed his agreement to her empathetic statement. * Dave came back with his car, the afternoon almost gone. He had been reading quietly, enjoying the racy book, interrupted only by a short walk with Grace and her seeing eye dog in the fields, and a lunch of a mushroom omelette, which he made for them both, showing off his culinary skills. "It was a blockage in the fuel pipe, nothing major, how would you like to pay?" "Credit card OK?" Watching as the man took his credit card details, and wrote the receipt, Hugh watched to see if his name was recognised, but Dave didn't seem to, just gave him the receipt and said goodbye. Walking back to the office, he asked Grace. "I know I've probably overstayed my welcome, and I've missed the soccer match I was going to, but would it be alright if I stayed one more night?" Smiling up in his direction, she whispered back, "Of course, I would love to return the sweet and pleasurable gift you gave me this morning." Causing a tingle to run up his spine, and getting up, she held out her hand in the direction of where he stood, waiting for him to take it and her up to the lavender filled bedroom, and her gift of sensual distraction. Jackman Breaks Loose Ch. 04 Pressure builds, and he bolts. Where can he find some peace and quiet, and someone who doesn't know who he is? Hugh Jackman finds an oasis of calm and hot sex, away from the spotlight. This is a fantasy, and in no way reflects a real incident, nor do I wish to cause concern or upset to Mr Jackman and his family in anyway with this erotic story. However if you are the sexiest man alive, you must realise you are the centre of many a persons erotic dreams. * Laying back, his well toned body spread out on the soft white sheets, his arms flung up over his head, his eyes closed, he luxuriated in the hot wet feel of her mouth as she took his hard and throbbing shaft inside the glorious cavity, moving up and down, sucking hard she worked him, making the tight hot feelings gather in his groin, and his body hum. Her small pink tongue swirled around the velvet skin, feeling every vein and bump, then over the glistening glans, sweeping up the pre cum that gathered there. Then back down again to take the whole long pole into her mouth, until he could feel the back of her throat, pressing down, deeper, taking him down to that point of pleasure where there is no turning back. Lifting his hips to join her movement, moving up as she moved down, he fucked her mouth, muscles straining until he could feel his balls start to tighten, the buzzing in his head increasing, he peaked, climaxing into her mouth, his salty hot sperm shooting down her throat, and then his body spent, he lay there relaxed and content. She crawled up the bed to lay her head in the crook of his arm, and the two of them cuddled there, taking comfort in the feel of each other, hands gently stroking skin, tranquil in the after glow. After a while she asked him, "You said you find it hard to deal with all the demands on your time, can't you say no, delegate, or just manage the amount in a better way." "Delegation is not an option, it's expected of me, and therefore I do it, and I tend not to say no, which I should. Maybe after this I'll, cut back and not do so much. It's just that I love my work, and there is a lot of supporting stuff I have to do. It's complicated." "Nothing is complicated Hugh, you either say yes, or no. Life is about choices, you have to take the decisions and stick by them. Maybe you're making the wrong decisions in life." "Part of the reason I say yes is I want to please, its left over from my childhood. I was brought up by a single father with four other siblings after my mother left. I was taught by my father that the work ethic is all, and until now I've never worried about it. It's just at the moment I need some space, maybe I've sold out. I'm not sure anymore." Laying back, the quiet and peacefulness surrounding them, he lay thinking on what she had said. It was true; he had made many decisions in life, agreeing to do things he should have said no to. Trying to please, and in doing so he had made his life a madhouse with no privacy, no anonymity and no way of evading the press and the fans that followed him with mobile phone cameras, even when walking his children to school. His every move, followed, recorded, watched. Her small hand lay upon his chest, and her small body nestled against his. Was this another bad choice he had made, this moment of madness? He had never in fourteen years of marriage been unfaithful, and here he was, with a perfect stranger, laying in bed, discussing feelings he had held inside for so long. Was this his middle life crisis? How did he feel about being unfaithful, and how would this affect his relationship with Deb? What would he do when he returned to his real life, in the public eye? Drifting into sleep, he lay, his dilemmas in his mind unresolved. * Sunday Morning found him in the field, early, the mist rising up from the wet grass all around where he sat, crossed legged, back straight, hands relaxed on his thighs, eyes closed. Chanting the mantra in his head he took himself into his usual state of meditation, looking for some answers. After thirty minutes he had his answers, and walking back to the cottage, found Grace as she sat brushing her hair at the end of the bed. Sitting next to her and taking her hand in his he told her, "Grace, this weekend, your kind gift of affection and peace has meant so much to me. But I know I have to now go back. The space you've given me has allowed me time to think and realise that I need to make my choices in life a lot more realistic, not just for me, but for my family. For that I thank you." Smiling up at the sound of his voice and cupping his face in her hand she smiled, "I hope you find the harmony and serenity you yearn for. I'll always treasure this memory." Kissing each other, they said goodbye without words. * Walking back into the hotel, people pointing at him as he walked by, he strode to the lift, and up to his room. Picking up the phone he dialled his wife, waiting for her to pick up the phone at her end, back in New York. "Hi, have I woken you up?" "No. How's it going?" "Pretty much the same as usual. Can you get an earlier booking and come over tomorrow, instead of next week?" "What's wrong?" "Nothing, except I'm missing you and it's a bit crazy here." Smiling to herself, she revelled in the fact that her handsome husband missed her. "I'll see if I can get one for tomorrow. How is England?" "Raining. Same as always." "How's the promo going?" "I'll tell you when you get here. Miss you babe." * He watched his wife as she walked into the Hotel Suite, the kids running towards him. "Hi," he smiled a sexy smile, eyes twinkling, "I've missed you, think we can grab an early night tonight?" Laughing and throwing her head back, she replied, "Desperate are you?" "Mmm..." and winking he told her, "Like when we were first married, so brace yourself Deb, I think your luck's in tonight." Her throaty laugh echoed in the room, and the familiarity of two people who know each other so well gave them an excited warmth that pooled between them, as they both imagined the coming night. * The woman sat in her little office, the phone by her ear, as she listened to the Editor of the Sunday paper that specialised in printing sensational stories about well known figures. "Yes, for two nights and two days." Listening to the man at the other end, she exclaimed, "How much?" Smiling to herself at the price quoted for her story, she agreed for a reporter to come up and interview her. "If you come on up for tomorrow, I'll have the bulk of the story prepared, and I can assure you it will be a hot one. I'll get my Lawyer over to witness the contract." Re-dialling she waited until Dave picked up the phone, and told him, "They've agreed, thanks for telling me who he was. Your cut is a grand, and they would like some proof." "No problem Grace, I can bring over the credit card receipt, and confirm to them who it was I met there at your place this weekend." Putting down the handset, Grace sat back, her sightless eyes staring out, a big smile on her face. Twenty five grand, just for fucking over the weekend. It was well worth it. * Sitting back in chair, Mike looked up at his Editor. "Your joking, Not Mr Squeaky Clean?" "Seems even he slips now and again." "Wow, what an exclusive, I can see the headline now, 'Wolverine and the blind passion he found,' should move a load more papers, 'sexiest man in the world fucks up by being found out'." "Yeah, well and truly fucks up!" The sound of raucous laughter could be heard throughout the news desk as the two men contemplated the exclusive they were going to print next Sunday exposing the famous Mr Jackman and his sexual exploits with the nubile Miss Grace. If he wanted some peace and quiet, he went about the wrong way of trying to find it!