Hollywood Hills: McKenzie

It was chaos. It was always chaos. The house was crawling with photographers, reporters and the usual pathetic tag alongs that came with the Stella Rose fame whoring tactics. McKenzie watched with a turned up lip from the sofa in the living room through wide open double doors. Stella hated that living room. Why? Because it looked like a normal living room. Well, it looked like a normal living room if the person who owned it was an aging movie star. It had a TV, and board games on the coffee table. That alone made Stella object. Stella Rose, who had a star on the Hollywood Walk Of Fame. Stella Rose, who got standing ovations at Cannes. Stella Rose, who had been through five husbands, three nervous breakdowns and more plastic surgeries than anyone could count. Stella Rose, who spoke with a weird pseudo British accent even though she was really Estelle Markowitz from The Bronx. Stella who posed naked for Peta and had a closet full of fur coats.

--- I don't allow the children to watch television. Such frippery rots the brain.--- Stella had said in a Vanity Fair interview, which wasn't at all true.

In fact, just the opposite. Bad American TV had been a full time nanny to every kid Stella had adopted. Stella Rose had no time in real life for the poor lost souls she had rescued. Only in her fantasy public life did Stella Rose make a perfect, compassionate mother.

MacKenzie was past all that. At nineteen, she was past all of Stella's craziness, but she still lived in the house, because as rich as Stella was, the woman hated parting with a penny and would not help McKenzie get an apartment of her own. The truth was, she relied on McKenzie so much that she couldn't let her go. It was McKenzie who mixed her drinks, fetched her prescriptions, reluctantly stroked her ego when she had fits of rage at whatever hairdresser had cut her trademark blond bob a little too short. Stella had a wicked temper, and if McKenzie wasn't around to soothe the brunt of it, then the younger kids would be the targets. There were seven adoptees altogether and last year McKenzie had talked Stella into putting them all into fancy boarding schools, except one, the youngest, Sevigne, a nine year old from Zaire who would be old enough for Tottington School in London next year. McKenzie had plans to send the poor kid there. It was better than here with Stella.

McKenzie was on Stella's shit list lately. A reporter had overheard McKenzie talking to a friend and saying that Stella adopted a kid in every color so she would always have a child to match her shoes. That comment was a verbal shot heard round the world, and since then, McKenzie had been trying to keep a good distance from Stella. McKenzie spent most of her time anywhere but the house. She had moved into the pool house a month ago (Stella had not noticed.) and had taken to parking her car in the East gate garage so that Stella wouldn't know if she was home. She came home at six pm every day to help Sevigne with her homework, then left again. The only other time she stayed around was to watch Stella's fiancé, Jason Kerr do his daily laps in the pool. It was a beautiful thing to watch. She had a serious jones for her 'mom's fiancé, even though he was a gold digging social climber. He was hot. He was old enough to he her father but then again Stella was old enough to be her mother so in a weird way, she figured it evened out.

***

McKenzie watched Jason Kerr cut through the water effortlessly. He had been on the Australian olympic swim team, but that had been thirteen years ago. Still, he was in perfect shape and he didn't look forty. Not at all. He was lean, and fit, cut from marble and it made her mouth water. She adjusted her little yellow bikini and slathered more tanning oil on her legs in the sunshine. What the hell was this gorgeous man doing with her aging, sad sack of shit mother? Stella! Ugh. Just the thought of it made her skin crawl. Stella was so drunk or bombed on pills all the time, McKenzie doubted the woman even knew he was there. Of course, he was after the prestige, the press... the money. He was a hotshot director and he had gotten to the hotshot level with Stella's money and influence. Without her, he would still be making grimy one camera street dramas in Australia.

He popped up out of the water and grabbed a towel, eyeing her with a smile. His camera was there, on the table. Jason was one of those directors who always has a camera, always ready to capture a moment. A wicked idea began to stir in McKenzie's head.

"Is Ste... Mom asleep?" She asked.

"I dunno. She was reading a script in bed last I was upstairs." He replied, giving her a nice view of the sculpted V of his pelvis as he dried off. The bulge in his speedos was thick and enticing.

"Maybe you should look in on her and make sure she's ok. You know how she takes too many pills, then the wine..."

"Hmm. Not a bad idea. I'll run up and have a look. You up for uh... a swim when I get back?"

"Absolutely. I'd love for you to teach me proper stroke technique." She smiled. The innuendo did not go over his head and he smiled, his white teeth gleaming. He gave her a knowing look over his shoulder as he went back in the house.

Once he was out of sight, she went to the table where the camera sat and found the controls. She angled it toward the poolside chaise that was edged right next to the pool so that the lens viewed a wide space. Yeah, that should do it. A good view of anything that happened there. She switched it on and hoped he wouldn't notice. She had some plans to keep him distracted.

When Jason came back, she was laying on the chaise, slathering coconut scented oil on her arms.

"She asleep?" McKenzie asked.

"Snoring like a bear." he said with a smile, that Aussie accent making her panties wet.

"I could use some help over here." She said, holding up the bottle of tanning oil.

He wasted no time. He was slathering oil over her legs, her back, her shoulders.

"Mmm, you have nice hands." She moaned. "You can do the front too." She rolled over and sat up a moment, reaching behind her to untie the bikini string. "I hate tanning lines."

He grinned from ear to ear when she tossed the bikini top to the ground and arched her back, presenting perfect tits, the kind of tits women paid huge sums of money to have surgically implanted. Hers were courtesy of nature and a Brazilian biological mother. He looked like he might salivate. She grinned.

"You like?" She asked, cupping her tits in her hands.

"Oh yeah, those are... damn. Those are fucking beautiful."

"My mom, I mean my real mom, was Brazilian."

"Is that where those came from?" He leaned in to capture a peaked nipple in his mouth, making her moan.

"Wait till you see my ass." She smiled.

That was all it took. He was hard. He was ready. He was impatient. She didn't mind. He turned her over on the chaise and lubed up his finger. He had two fingers in her asshole within a minute. So much for foreplay. But it felt good. Just not good enough yet, and McKenzie was not the kind of girl who couldn't ask for what she wanted, or demand it.

"Why don't you start licking my asshole, sport?"

He was happy to oblige, spreading her ample cheeks open to reveal the pink, tight little hole. His tongue flickered around it, dipping in in it's own rhythm. Not good enough for her.

"What the fuck, man? Do you eat Stella's pussy like that? Get in there!" She reached back to grasp a handful of his hair and push his face into her ass. She could feel him groan, and his tongue was frantic now, working hard to please her. Good, just how she liked it. "Good boy."

He came up for air and gasped.

"Fuck yeah! Damn, you've grown up, haven't you!"

"Damn right, and I know what I want. You gonna give me what I want?" She purred.

"Name it." He grinned.

"First, I want you to show me how you stroke. Get that dick even harder, right here, by my face so I can watch real close."

He groaned in appreciation, and moved to stand with his thick meat right by her cheek. She tugged down his speedos and he kicked them away. He had a nice, long dick that made her lick her lips.

"That's gonna feel so good in my ass. Get that dick harder. Go on, stroke that dick."

He stroked himself slowly, rubbing the head of his cock over the soft skin of her cheek. She rewarded him with a few licks of her tongue and one long, deep suck that made him groan so loud she worried Stella would hear it from the window upstairs. He was hard as nails now, and McKenzie didn't want to run out of videotape. She would have to rush this a little.

"You ready for my asshole?"

"Fuck yeah."

He flipped her over onto her hands and knees on the chaise and spread her ass cheeks again. She was nice and slick and ready, smelling like coconut oil and sex. He didn't hesitate. He pushed into the tight, pink hole roughly, making her gasp, until she adjusted to the invasion and pushed back on him. His turn to gasp. She rocked back on him, taking him deep.

"I bet Mom doesn't let you do this, does she?"

He seemed a little stunned by the question, then turned on.

"No. Nothing like this."

"Does that turn you on?" She asked in her best 1970's Stella Rose sex kitten voice. "You're gonna marry my Mom in two weeks and you're balls deep in her daughter's asshole."

"Oh God, yes. Jesus..." He pumped into her harder.

"It's ok, baby. You can think about me when you fuck her. She'll never know."

That seemed to take him over the edge. He jerked and spasmed, groaning as he came an impressive load in her ass. He was breathless and barely functional when he pulled out of her, flopping down on the nearby chaise as she casually stood up, tied her bikini back on and slung a hibiscus printed sarong around her hips.

"Go tend to my 'mother' before she looks out the window and sees you freshly fucked." McKenzie said, pulling her hair back into a pony tail. She said the word mother with edge.

"So uh... can this be a regular thing? He asked. "Me and you?"

"Maybe." She said.

"Your mum doesn't have to know. She can't know. She'd call off the wedding." He explained, as if she had no idea.

"We'll see."

He hurried back into the house, a dog waiting for a bone or a scrap from the deteriorating legendary actress of the screen, Stella Rose. McKenzie picked up the camera and took out the tape, sliding it into her tote bag with her tanning oil, her dog eared William Gibson novel and her sunglasses, then washed off in the outdoor shower by the pool with a smile.

***

That tape sat on top of the dresser in McKenzie's bedroom for a week, untouched. On the eighth day, she played it for herself, and resisted the temptation to touch herself. No, she told herself. This is a weapon. The next time Stella does something crazy, this will be the napalm that takes her down.

It was the night before the wedding that she had to pick up that tape. The wedding was a publicity event and like all Stella Rose level publicity stunts, this one involved dozens of reporters, and a circus of preparation crew. It was above and beyond a wedding. Star Magazine was reporting that the whole thing was costing her over a million dollars, and that did not include the diamond studded Paris couture wedding gown that no one had revealed a figure for, or the gigantic pink diamond engagement ring that Stella had bought for herself. She had made a media event of that too, making sure paparazzi were on hand to witness her with Jason shopping for rings in Rome during the filming of her last movie. The whole thing had been staged. Even the sales agent was an actress, a stately brunette whose job it was to not outshine Stella in a room full of diamonds. The 'candid' kissing shots in front of the Trevi Fountain... staged. The romantic candlelight dinner in Tuscany invaded by annoying gadfly cameras... staged. The posed smiling faces of her rainbow colored adopted child accessories at the Hollywood Hills mansion when they came home from Europe... staged. Five minutes after the photographer got the shot, the kids were all snatched away by nannies at Stella's barking orders. The fact was, Stella hardly ever saw those kids and when she did it was always for dubious reasons, to use them as publicity props. She was harsh to them. She didn't beat them, but she ruined whatever self esteem those poor kids had.

The night before the wedding, Stella was standing in front of a huge mirror while two seamstresses made final adjustments to her gown. Her two personal assistants hovered around on cell phones, snapping to her every order and whim. McKenzie was there because she was expected to be.

"McKenzie, darling, where is your dress?"

"It's ready, Stella... Mom. Don't worry."

"I need to speak with you immediately. There have been a change in plans. Come with me." Stella stepped away from the mirror, frustrating the seamstresses, and she stepped into McKenzie's bedroom, one of the few rooms not swarming with people. "We're extending our Honeymoon to a full month. Jason wants to spend a while longer in Santorini. I know you had your heart set on going to university in London, but things are changing. All this publicity is great for my career and I need to keep it going. That means I need you close to home. I've made arrangements for you to attend UCLA instead."

"What the fuck? Stella, what are you talking about? I've been preparing to go to London for three years!"

"Well, it's healthy to want things, dear, but I need you here. I'm going to be bring the children home from boarding school too. Having them so far away is bad for my image." She leaned in front of the mirror in my room and casually adjusted a false eyelash. This all meant nothing to her. "It makes me seem cold."

"That's because you ARE cold." I said, wanting to hit her.

"In any case, they'll be coming home after the honeymoon is over."

"Ok, what school are you going to send them to?"

"I don't think that is necessary, actually. I'll hire tutors so they can be here. The photographers will love that. I've made arrangements with Federico Maseo, a photographer I used to work with. He's going to do a photo book on our family. Lots of photo ops showing me with the children, you know, playing on swing sets and all that nonsense. Federico will be here for three months so it is imperative that you be on your best behavior. Do you understand?"

"Mom." McKenzie hoped she could appeal to some sense of compassion in Stella Markowitz. "You know that the kids are doing well in school. They're stable there. Being here... it would ruin all that progress."

"McKenzie, you know the game as well as anyone. I need you all to be on board. My career is coming up again and I need..."

"I'll tell you what I need." McKenzie stood up and picked up the tape, switching on the TV set and standing at attention as her 'mother' watched in horror, her mouth forming a perfect shocked 'O'. She watched as Stella sank down onto the bed, her shoulders slumping. "So, Mom, what I need is for you to leave things as they are. The kids will stay in school where they are, and Sevigne will join them next year. I am going to school in London, and from there I will keep an eye on the kids, and you will butt out of their lives. And mine. If you don't, this tape and the copies I made will be sent out to every news rag from here to New York, and within a day you will be the sad, sad mother whose gold digger husband fucked your whore daughter. I don't mind, Mom. I really don't. Hell, people have gotten famous for less. But you? You'll look pathetic, and you'll have no choice but to call off this wedding and your month in Greece, and I seriously doubt that bullshit movie you're doing will hold up when you're family is not so wholesome anymore. After all, what kind of mother raises a daughter like me? And what kind of woman marries a man who sticks his tongue in her daughter's asshole? Believe me, Mom, I will destroy you, and I will enjoy it. So, go back in there and get your dress finished, and have this stupid wedding. Do your movies. Be a star. But nothing in our lives changes. At least not the way you want it to."

Stella looked like a melted mannequin. McKenzie thought the woman's face might slide down into her manicured hands. She stood up, straightened her Amato gown and composed herself.

"What a fine young woman I have raised." She said, playing the martyr card.

"Congratulations, mother. May you have a long and happy marriage."