Pleasuring Micheal Biehn Ch. 1

this is a work of pure fiction... and the outcome of an obsession for Michael Biehn for more than 12 years. I had taken it in a romantic angle, because that's how I have imagined Biehn and sorry, if this is not the nitty-grritty, hardcore piece you would expect. yes, it is my own fantasy, and let me know whether you all like it.

...

Michael Biehn looked out of the pent house at the city below. He had always wanted to visit India and see for himself whether it was indeed a land of snakes and fakirs. And THAT, it was not. So far, he had not seen one snake or fakir. And it was not uncivilized or ancient either. Though the dirt and grime in the streets, the reserved nature of the locals and the almost primitive modes of transport repelled him, he was too taken up with the simple pleasure of traveling in an unknown city. He was now in Agra, the city of Love and Taj Mahal. It was one of the main places he wanted to see in India. And staying in the Carlton, which was at least reminiscent of the comforts of the Hilton. He would be visiting the Taj Mahal tomorrow.

God, it is hot, he thought, stretching himself. You ARE near the desert, Michael, he reminded himself. He had come here alone. Sometimes he needed a break away from everything, from the stage, from the limelight and sometimes from mankind itself. He loved his family and he almost wished he had brought Caelan and the twins along, but he wanted to be alone, really ALONE. He wanted a time for himself, Michael Biehn, the human and NOT as Michael Biehn, the actor.

Luckily, (he thought), nobody seemed to recognize him here. Some other time it would have pissed him off, but here it was just fine by him. Guess one can never be THAT famous, he thought, amused. The Indians were accustomed in seeing fair-skinned foreigners roaming around their city. The local people gave him the usual share of stares and giggles, but there were no panicky shouts or girls mobbing him. It was just too good. His wife understood about this need to recharge his body and mind in solitude and he felt lucky to have had such a good and happy family among the shitty battlefield of Hollywood.

...

I was floored. Stunned. FLABBERGASTED. I just could not believe my eyes! I kept on pinching my wrists till they turned a bright red. So it was really Michael Biehn. I wanted to shout HALLELUJAH and kiss the earth. My GOD!!! Am I seeing him? Or am I dreaming? May be the lovely sight of the Taj Mahal, a marble masterpiece, built by an emperor in the memory of his dead wife, was making me delusional.

Yes, he was far from the impossibly handsome Kyle Reese, and he had changed a lot. He must be at least 45 now. But he was still lean and gorgeous. Not to mention the tan... he was looking all brown and shiny in the sleeveless t-shirt. His lean legs were covered only in denim cut-offs. I was glued to his supple legs. I could not see much of his face from the turban and the cools he was wearing to protect himself from the merciless sun. But what I could see was his side profile that branded him as Biehn.

I got all hot and bothered now. I didn't know what to do... What do I do now? Leave the place and visit a psychiatrist? Scream MICHAEL and fall in his feet? Do I go, intro myself quietly and ask for his autograph?

What are you THINKING? My mind screamed at me. You think of him every time you masturbate for the last 10 years and you want his AUTOGRAPH? Don't let this chance escape, Tammie, a small voice pounded in my mind. you had always wanted him, right from the moment you saw him fall naked out of the sky to save Sarah Conner. And that was when you were 12. For 10 years you had his face before him... Even when Gautham was making love to you, you fantasized that it was Biehn and not he.

Follow him, dear, the sly voce guided... it is not enough if you are just a writer of mystery stories... be one of you heroines for a change. Follow him and find out where he is staying. And then... Let's see.

I got up from the bench and I slowly circled the place, gauging how far is the distance to be maintained between him and me, so that he wouldn't get suspicious. My mind was made up now. I usually get what I want fairly. And now I am going to work like shit to get what I had wanted for ten years, it was almost my first time, in every way possible.

...

There was an ache in Michael's throat as he returned to the lobby. It was late in the evening and he was hungry. He never imagined what the first sight of Taj Mahal would do to him. The guide had told him about the story behind it and he admired the passion of Shah Jahan, the Mughal emperor who had built the beauty. He had food in the restaurant and watched the musician play a melodious tune in his sitar, but his mind was elsewhere. I should have brought her with me, he thought. He realized he had made a mistake by not having his wife near him, to enjoy his first sight of the symbol of love. Well, there is always another time, he decided and climbed the elevator.

He unlocked his suite and went inside. And immediately tensed. Something was wrong. There was a strange vibe in the air and it was unnaturally quiet. Then he felt it. A wet patch in the carpet under his foot. Michael bent down and realized that it was a footprint. He followed but they ended near the toilet. He returned to the living room and picked up his backpack, pulling out a. 32 mm. The hotel officials told him that Agra was a peaceful city and that the locals would never harm a tourist, but he didn't take a chance. And he was glad about that.

He checked inside the toilet, but nobody was there. But the floor was still wet. The intruder must have washed his feet and hiding in some other part of the suite. Michael was edgy, but he also felt a twinge of thrill. It was not acting, but real life, and it was turning his senses on. He slowly cruised the suite and entered his bedroom. And almost dropped his gun.

"Please don't shoot me," came the quivering voice... no, quivering FEMALE voice "I'm not a thief. I just wanted... to meet you"

All at once Michael felt weary. So it was just some broad who had recognized him and turned psychotic. He felt a little irritated and a lot fed up. Girls who would fall over him, intoxicated by the image of Kyle Reese. For a while, it excited him, made him feel like a king in the world (sorry, Cameron, old chap) but all the glassy eyed obsession of these chicks tired him. Sure, It had thinned out for a while, now that he was no longer young or handsome as before, but still this was too much.

Some times he wished he had never accepted the part of the savior from the future. Partly because, it was his best performance that never got what it truly deserved and another was people always searched for the remnants of Kyle Reese in him, and that made him mad as hell. He would bet that this one dreamt herself as Sarah Conner, waiting to be rescued and given a sexual nirvana by him.

He could not still see her clearly. Her body was silhouetted in semi-darkness and he switched on the light. She covered her face instinctively, the sudden light blinding her for a moment. Then she squared herself and faced him. Michael was surprised to see a thin, intelligent-looking Indian girl looking at him curiously. He had half expected her to be a white person, because of her American accent. He almost felt relieved in a self-important way that someone in this place knew him. She was far from the horny seductress or slobbering wimp he had anticipated her to be. She appeared quite composed and sure about herself. Hmmm. Curly brown hair highlighted with gold. Small eyes and large lips. Slim body. No earth-shaking beauty. He placed his gun on the dresser and looked at her.

"Out. NOW"

...

OH, GOD, he is looking royally PISSED, I thought with a shudder. How could I have been so stupid to pull out a stunt like that? I'm a freaking novelist, not Mata Hari! And I never, ever thought that he would pull out a gun on me. Well, thank goodness at least he paid attention to my voice. And then, he ordered me out. Just like that. And I thought lonely men liked to have women pouncing on them!

I felt angry. I had risked so much, including imprisonment for attempted robbery and bribing the hotel officials and I was now broke with a capital B (that cleaning bitch wanted 10000 bloody bucks, that's eq. To 200 dollars to you) and he was not even LOOKING at me properly.

"Is this the way you talk to all of your fans?" I asked with acidity.

He seemed surprised that I would even have the gall to talk back. "Well, gee, no, only to those who break in my suite," he replied equally.

I had the grace to wince and replied," Fair enough, Michael. But I didn't know any other way to talk to u. I... I just wanted to meet you for so many years... "

"Well, now that you have seen me," he replied firmly "scoot. Or do you want me call for the cops?"

"Fine," I replied. No point in talking to a moron. Pity he turned out to be such a piss-ass. "Let me just say this and leave. You are most realistic and talented actor I have come across in the 90s movies. Though I wish you are just ACTING like a jerk, as you are now. And I want you to know that I love you, because you are a damned good actor and a damned good man who loves his wife and family. Say hi from me to them. Bye, Michael. "

I turned and picked my bag. So much for perfect moments and the perfect man. I was ashamed of the way I had stalked him and more ashamed of the fact that I had blabbered to him like some lovesick idiot. He must be thinking me as a dumb broad, I thought miserably. Well, at least I was alone with him for a few minutes. That should do for the next 10 years.

He was standing silent and staring at me. I wished I had something on me better than the short white top and gray cargos. I had to pass the dresser to go to the door. I saw the gun placed on it. Suddenly I went berserk. To this moment I don't know what got into me. In a blink, I had whipped up the gun and pointed towards Michael. My hands shook like crazy but at least I didn't drop it or worse, shoot him.

Michael seemed stunned. And then he simply looked furious. I can mentally see him kicking himself for placing the gun so near to me.

"Don't shoot... I wont do anything. I won't press charges. you can have anything in this room. I have a family, you crazy b... I have a wife and three kids. Jus don't... shoot." Not many men could have uttered those words without shaking or pissing in their pants, but Michael did it. Had he been afraid or begging me, I wd have just dropped the gun and fled in disgust, but the solid way he said it made me more firm to do what I was about to do.

"Anything, Michael?" I asked him with a sweet smile "Can I have anything?"

"Yes, just take it and leave me," he said without flinching. I knew he still didn't have a clue about what I exactly wanted from this room.

"But I can't do it, Gorgeous. I can't have it AND leave you alone. You HAVE to be with me, if I can take it," I said in a seductive (I hoped) voice. "I want to be with you. Tonight. Every second of it. Can I have that?"

Michael was silently glowering at me. I had him by his balls and he knew it. I took his silence as a yes and decided not to waste any more time. It was already 9 and I wanted to have as much of him in my life and body before tomorrow came.

I changed the gun to my left hand and with my right, I touched him.

...

Michael was cursing his stupidity for the hundredth time. He could not believe that this Fucking GIRL here was controlling him. Oh, she had his attention all right, by those words of appreciation she had thrown at him. She must have planned the whole thing while I was gobbling downstairs, he thought bitterly. For once, he had received a sincere compliment, not for Kyle Reese or any other character, but on his acting talent and character and he was basking in its warmth, forgetting that he had an audience before him. He was careless and now he had given in a silver plate what she had wanted in the first place. He felt intense hatred for this bitch... for deceiving him with a well-cloaked compliment and for shattering the happiness he had felt when she said it so sincerely.

She asked him to remove his shirt. He did so, with a killing glare at her. She then pulled him towards the bed. Deftly she opened her bag and pulled out a bunch of rope. The type used on trekking. All during this, her left hand was pointing towards his body. Quickly she pushed him on his back on the bed and tied his hands on the posts. He could have kicked or attacked her while she was concentrating on tying his hands, but he didn't want to risk it. She appeared quite nervous about the whole thing, and might shoot at the first sign of resistance from him. Further, he was aware of a sense of an anticipation and expectation about what was going to happen. He was never in this situation before, tied up on gunpoint by a whiff of a girl. Maybe at some point she will untie him and then he'll do something...

"Why are you having that ugly scowl on your face?" she asked him softly, 'don't be mad, Michael. I tried to do this in the most normal manner possible but you just weren't listening. Just.... Enjoy this. Because only if you do, I can savor this night"

He looked at her. She was once more the quiet, unassuming girl. All the passion and hardness he had glimpsed her earlier had vanished. She was looking apprehensive and suddenly tossed her head. She stood up and smiled.

"Well, why don't I introduce myself... I am Tammie, 22 years old, aspiring writer and a die-hard fan of Biehn"

He couldn't help getting amused by her attempts to make him relax. "Oh, yeah? Tammie, huh? What's your real name?"

She sat on the bed and started undoing the buttons in his shorts. " Actually I'm Thamarai Shivkumar. Tammie's my pet name. Those guys in Chicago shortened it to Tammie and it stuck"

"You were in Chicago?" that accounts for her accent, he thought.

"Yup, the Art Institute of Chicago, majored in creative writing. I just returned last month to India. And I decided to tour the North with my friends. They have retired to the hotel. Boy, am I glad that I decided to visit the Taj Mahal alone today evening"

By this time, she had slid his shorts to his feet and threw it under the bed. She got before him and stared down at him. He felt almost vulnerable, with her fully dressed and him in a boxer. Oh, come on, he laughed at himself, here was a fat piece of meat offering herself to him and he was feeling offended about that? But Michael was almost glad that she was talking to him. Something about her way of talking impressed him. He noticed that she was quite striking, in a quiet, dignified way.

She slowly removed her top and dropped it on the floor. She was wearing a while strapless bra and her shoulders were silky smooth and shiny in the dim light. Her wheatish complexion and small, pert breasts suddenly turned him on and he felt the beginning of an erection. She saw it too and smiled at him teasingly. She then removed the cargos and stood before him clad in a bra and matching panties. He almost hit his jaw in the bed looking at her body. She did have a gorgeous body hidden inside those baggy t-shirt and cargoes. Narrow waist and toned legs. His favorite combination.

She came near him and bent down, whispering to him, "do you want to hear some music?" He shook his head; the visual stimulation was more than enough at this moment. She climbed on him and lay flat over him. Her belly settled snugly over his erect midriff. He winced at the sudden frisson of desire and so did she. She looked deep into his eyes. Then she smiled.

"Close your eyes. Don't open them till I say so"

He closed his eyes, feeling an unreal, delicious feeling of contentment wash over him. Finally, this soft, courageous female had touched him in some deep corner of his heart. He was normally faithful to his wife, but he would not add this encounter to his sins, simply because he had not initiated it in the first place and now that it was happening, he might as well enjoy it.

She started kissing his face. His eyes first. The lashes, brows and then his cheeks and jaw. To his surprise, she didn't kiss on his lips. She kept on covering his face with tiny, feathery, wet kisses. She moved to his temple and kneaded his hair with her small hands. She sucked his ear lobe and neck, all the time moaning a little and breathing heavily. By this time, Michael felt light and a little dizzy. He had never been kissed so long like this on his face, that too with his hands bound. Every time Tammie gave a kiss, she pressed her midriff into his, causing him to press back.

She finally moved to his middle and kissed his upper chest. She turned to his arms and continued to worship him with her lips in the same way. She took each of his fingers into her mouth and sucked it softly. She returned to his chest and circled around his nipples, nipping and sucking the skin around it. By this time, his cock was fully aroused and forming a tent in his middle. He heard a sultry giggle and felt her get up. Then he felt her along his legs, kissing his toes, foot, shank and thighs. Then she seemed to lift herself up, brushing his cock with her breasts and without warning, bounced on his nipples with her mouth. He almost came on the assault; so intense was the feeling he had felt when she tongued his nipple. This had to be the longest foreplay he had had in his life and by the looks of it, it was not even half over.

Tammie twirled her tongue on his light brown nipple and bit it gently. He moaned and she moaned back in response. She brought her other hand on his other nipple. She started sucking one and tweaking the other in her hand. Michael never thought his nipples as one of his major erogenous areas. But apparently, it was and he felt almost faint from the delightful torture that little minx was giving. She finally seemed sated in her hunger for his nipples and moved up.

"Open your eyes" she ordered softly. He opened his eyes and looked at her. "Did you like it?"

She was quite transformed. Her face was sparkling with sexiness and her eyes had the look of insatiable appetite... for him. Michael felt a sudden desire for Tammie for loving him so well that he replied her with an honest smile. "Very much. Thank you"

She looked at him for a moment and smiled. He was beginning to like that sudden, honest smile. "In that case... I want you to open your eyes and see what I am going to do to you now"

She started to get up but Michael's voice stopped her.

"On one condition, Tammie... I want you to free my hands. I wont hurt you... I promise."

"Patience, sweetheart... all in good time" she replied teasingly and got up.

She picked the candle tray from the shelf and took out a few of them. She switched off the lights and then lighted the candles, arranging them in a circle around the bed. The whole atmosphere changed dramatically. They might have been the only people in the hotel... it was so mysterious and Tammie looked like an angel in a bra and panties. Why hasn't she removed them, he wondered. Obviously she was aroused. He could see her nipples highlighted like pebbles in the candlelight. And brown pubic hair peaking out the ends of her panty. Michael became more and more enchanted with this stranger, who had appeared from nowhere and apparently taking him to heaven.

As if an answer to his question, Tammie unfastened the front clasp of her bra. Small, firm globed of flesh spilled frm her and looked proudly at the man tied to the bedposts. She sat on the bed near him. He was leaning on the bed, with his hands above him. She crossed his lap and balanced her knees on either side of him and knelt over him. Michael felt the warm weight of breasts on his face, followed by the gentle jabbing of nipples. She brushed them all over his face, on his eyes, cheeks and lips. He opened his mouth and tried to catch a nipple, but she cleverly evaded him and moved her torso this way and that, so that he always missed biting a nipple. Soon they were playing a game of dog and bone, with him mock-growling for her nipple and she giggling wildly at his frantic efforts to capture her breast. They were laughing at each other and finally, Michael caught a nipple and Tammie gasped hard, almost falling on his face.