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Goodbye, Miss Granger Ch. 08-09

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Chapter 8 – Celebrity Bang

2011 was a wonderful year for me. After that extraordinary first date, Kevin and I later revealed to each other that it was our first time – something that hardly came as a surprise to either of us. Belinda spent hours trying to debrief me. Ostensibly it was to ascertain the effectiveness of her plan for managing virgins, but I think she really just likes to listen to all of the lurid details. I gave her just enough to shut her up on the subject, but no more. I assured her whole-heartedly that her system works well, a little too well, if anything.

To say that Kevin and I made up for lost time is an understatement. Morning sex, secret daytime sex and sometimes public sex in quiet parts of the university, and long evenings of experimental lovemaking made some weeks seem like that was all we did. Sometimes we had to stop simply because we were too hungry to continue, having skipped one or two previous meals to have sex.

My fetish for light restraints and helplessness caught us both by surprise, but neither of us was complaining. I enjoy regular ‘unrestrained’ sex too, but I have more powerful orgasms when I’m struggling against Kevin’s grasp or when he ties me to the bed. He maintains that he doesn’t get off on overpowering me (though I suspect he does), but that the most exciting thing for him is seeing me crazy with lust and teetering on the edge of the monumental orgasms that he engineers by restraining me and teasing my entrance and clitoris with the tip of his cock. Just when I can’t take any more, he slides into the thousand degree heat he’s built up in my core and finishes us both off in just a few delectable strokes.

The thing I haven’t shared with him, although it wouldn’t surprise me if he had guessed, is the way I fantasise that he’s a stranger when he ties me face down or kneeling on the bed. It’s not that I want to sleep around – I love Kevin and I want to be monogamous. I think about my pussy, open and wet and fully exposed where I can’t see so that anybody (well, anybody walking through our bedroom) could take advantage and I would be helpless to stop them. In my fantasies my assailant is completely silent, so I wouldn’t even know what was going on until he slid his cock into me.


I finished my Bachelor or Education at the end of the year and Kevin completed his Bachelor of Science in Applied Mathematics, graduating with First Class honours early in 2012. We both got our first post-graduate jobs within a few weeks of each other, me at the high school at which I still teach, and Kevin at the Bureau of Meteorology.

With proper incomes for the first time in our lives, we decided to get a nice apartment closer to my school and move in together. As a last hurrah to the two years I lived with Belinda, we arranged for all four of us to have a boozy night-out; we had drinks, then dinner (with more drinks), then off to a pub with music and a dance floor (for Belinda and Andrew, not for us).

After a wonderful dinner we retired to a nearby pub and Belinda miraculously found us a vacant booth, so we sat down while Andrew fought a path to the bar to buy the first round of drinks.

“Four midis. Pardon me, coming through, four midis,” he called amusingly as he adeptly carried the drinks back through a sea of potentially jogging elbows.

“Kev,” he leaned over Kevin, looking around conspiratorially when he got back. Although having to shout over the music made the conversation somewhat less private and a lot less conspiratorial-looking than he probably hoped. “Do you recognise that woman in the silver dress?”

We all looked around, showing no respect whatsoever for the perceived privacy of the conversation. She was difficult to miss, almost impossibly beautiful and slim, straight brunette hair tied on top of her head to accentuate her long, slim neck; dark eyes and gleaming white teeth completed the package. She was a stunner. I felt a moment of jealousy as Kevin looked at her.

“Didn’t we see her last week?” Kevin replied deadpan, although I could see a smirk curling at the corner of his mouth. “She was the one who ripped her top open and begged to carry my baby.”

“You’re as funny as a fart in an elevator, Kev,” Andrew rolled his eyes. The live band finished their set and conversation became possible again. “Look again. She’s famous.”

Kevin took a longer look, longer than seemed strictly necessary for the purposes of recognition. “Nope,” he shook his head. “I’ve got nothing. Movie star famous? Or TV-soap famous?”

“It’s Rose Byrne, you tool!” Andrew lamented.

“Oh God,” Belinda groaned. “Here we go.”

“What?” asked Kevin. “The one from …,” he snapped his fingers, trying to recall a name, “… that TV show with the lawyer woman … Meryl Streep?”

“Glenn Close,” Andrew corrected him. “Near enough. It’s Damages. Rose Byrne is the young hottie, Ellen Parsons. And she was in one of the X-Men movies. And Bridesmaids too!”

“Bridesmaids? Really?” Kevin humoured him. “You’ve tuzla escort got the Limited Edition Director’s Cut Blu-Ray of that one, right?”

“Belinda wanted to see it, smart-ass,” he smiled. “But you’re missing the point. It’s her, isn’t it?”

“Tell him it is her, Kev,” Belinda laughed. “I want to see what happens next.”

“It doesn’t seem likely,” Kevin frowned. “She’s American, isn’t she? Go stand close and see if she has an accent.”

“Yeah Andrew,” Belinda giggled. “Go stand close and see if she has an accent. Or an aversion to stalkers.”

“You’re just jealous Daniel Craig’s not here,” he rounded on her, smiling though to show he was being flippant. “No, she’s Australian,” he turned back to Kevin. “She just does the American accent for TV and movies.”

“Are you sure?” Kevin asked, looking over at the woman in the silver dress again while I testily asked myself how such close inspection helped decide an argument about her accent.

“Dead sure,” he said seriously. “That’s what makes her the perfect Celebrity Bang. That and the fact she’s still single.”

I leaned towards Andrew. “Did you say Celebrity …?”

“Celebrity Bang,” Andrew confirmed, keeping an eye on the beautiful woman as he explained. It was Belinda’s idea; she wanted permission to bang Daniel Craig if he ever made a James Bond movie in Australia.” That had a ring of truth; I know Belinda has the serious hots for Daniel Craig in a dinner jacket.

“That seems like a reasonable request,” I smiled.

“Sure!” Andrew laughed. “And I said yes! If Daniel Craig comes to Australia and Belinda just happens to be out and about and sees him on the street, then she has my permission to ask him for a night of hot, meaningless, no-strings-attached sex.”

“You can’t get more reasonable than that,” I giggled, looking at Belinda long-sufferingly rolling her eyes but letting Andrew tell the story his way.

“I thought it was very reasonable of me too,” Andrew agreed with a big grin. “Especially since he’s married to a stone cold fox.”

“Who’s that?” I asked.

“Rachael Weisz!” Belinda threw her hands in the air in frustration. “Bitch!”

“Isn’t she the one from …?” Kevin began.

“Yes!” Andrew interrupted. “From The Mummy!”

“Oh,” Kevin looked sadly at Belinda. “She IS totally hot.” Then he turned back to Andrew. “And Rose Byrne?”

“Well, if Belinda has a Celebrity Bang, then I want one too,” he smiled. “But I did my research! One: she IS Australian, from Sydney, no less.” He ticked off the first point on a finger. “Two: she’s single. That’s how I found her; the split with her last boyfriend was in the women’s mags at about the time this came up.”

“Lucky you have that Cosmo subscription,” Kevin pointed out.

“Shut up, Kev,” Andrew fired back, smiling. “And three: she’s prone to jumping in the sack with strangers!”

“How can you know that?” I laughed. “Cosmo again?”

“Season Two of Damages,” he pointed his finger at me seriously. “She shows up as Wes’s place and hops straight in the cot without so much as a by-your-leave!” Belinda was still just smiling, letting this go on.

“But that’s TV!” I laughed. “Rose Byrne wouldn’t actually do that.” Now he had me looking over at the woman in the silver dress.

“It’s a pattern,” Andrew said confidently. “She looked super into-it and she probably hasn’t stopped thinking about trying it out in real life since filming.”

“And being a beautiful movie star,” I giggled, “she wouldn’t have many opportunities to try out her fantasy seduction on willing young men.”

“You may laugh …” Andrew shook his head, grinning.

“We do!” All three of us sung in chorus.

“… but THAT woman over there is Rose Byrne,” he said, pointing and grinning like a maniac. “And I invoke the Celebrity Bang Act of 2010.” At that moment, a handsome man came back from the bar and handed ‘Rose Byrne’ a glass of champagne, kissing her softly and lovingly on the lips. “Oh, fuck it!” Andrew threw up his hands in frustration and then drowned his disappointment in beer while we laughed at him.

“And so,” I said, turning to Belinda. “Is Daniel Craig still your Celebrity Bang? Or has the whole hot-wife thing turned you off?”

“Are you kidding?” Belinda cried. “A three-way with Daniel Craig and Rachael Weisz? Who’d say no to that?”

“Not me,” Andrew chimed.

“Me neither,” Kevin agreed. I slapped him under the table and then instantly regretted it as I thought about having a three-way with Kevin and Daniel Craig. And Belinda with Rachael Weisz? That wasn’t the first homo-erotic thing she’d ever said. It made me wonder, even though I’d never known her to be anything but straight.

“Don’t you want someone more local?” I smiled at Belinda. “Someone a bit more plausible, like Rose Byrne’s boyfriend?” I asked, gesturing towards the couple.

“Nope,” she shook her head defiantly. “I’m committed to Daniel and Rachael now. If I officially switched, Murphy’s Law would have me a week later dragging him from a burning building tuzla escort bayan and giving him mouth-to-mouth. And then as his eyes would flutter open and he’d dreamily focus on my face and say, “Belinda, thank you! How can I ever repay you? Wait, I feel faint again. Take me and put me to bed. Get Rachael to help!”

“You’re right,” I giggled. “That could totally happen.”

“I know!” she agreed, her eyes flashing happily at the daydream.

“So who’s your Celebrity Bang, Kev?” Andrew asked.

“Oh … uh?” he looked guiltily at me. “We don’t have one.”

“Come on,” he urged. “Jeannie won’t mind, will you Jeans?”

I waved a hand non-committally. “Don’t let me stop you,” I laughed. Our love-making had woken me up to the joy of fantasies and I realised I didn’t really know much about Kevin’s. I hoped this was a good opportunity for some insight.

“Oh, okay,” he smiled, eagerly I thought. “Well, that’s an easy one: Emma Watson.”

Belinda and Andrew groaned in unison.

“You’re already banging Emma Watson,” Andrew complained, gesturing grandly at me. “Pick someone else.”

“No, no!” Kevin waved him down, smiling broadly. “Hear me out! It’s like a twins fantasy!”

“Oh, God yes!” Andrew slapped his head. “An Emma and Jeannie three-way!” I felt my nipples tingle at the sudden attention from two men.

“Hey!” Belinda cried indignantly. “Don’t sound so interested!”

“No, I’m just saying,” Andrew back-pedalled. “I can see the attraction from Kev’s perspective.”

“Sure you can,” Belinda said sarcastically, winking at me, maybe telling me that Andrew had a little crush but that she’s okay with it.

“Right!” smiled Kevin. “And you have to wonder, don’t you?”

“Wonder what?” Andrew asked. Belinda and I were listening intently; this was uncharacteristically revealing for Kevin.

“Well,” he stammered. “You have to wonder just how similar they really are,” he looked shyly at me. I smiled to let him know I wasn’t offended. Actually, it was pretty arousing. “You know,” he started again. “If it was dark, could you really tell which one you were with? Or might you end up having sex with a person you thought was someone else?”

Oh my God! That was so hot! It felt like I was instantly wet. I wasn’t thinking about Emma Watson though; I was thinking about my recurring fantasy of being fucked by a stranger. But in this fantasy, I thought it was Kevin and it was really someone else. I wriggled uncomfortably in my seat as my pussy heated up several degrees.

“Okay, look, I’m going to accept that as your official Celebrity Bang …,” began Andrew.

“How magnanimous!” I interjected.

“… but you’re missing a golden opportunity to pick someone more plausible,” he finished.

“I don’t know about that,” Kevin smiled. “How do you know Emma Watson doesn’t have an auto-erotic twin fantasy? Maybe one well-placed Instagram of Jeannie in that red dress and Emma will come running.”

I had to smile, because it was more funny than offensive. I don’t have any interest in girl-on-girl, but if I did then my look-alike would be at the top of the list. It would be like the world’s hottest, kinkiest masturbation.

“Do I get a say in this?” I laughed.

“No!” they all sang gleefully.

“Your turn Jeans,” Belinda said. “Who’s your Celebrity Bang? “And just remember that Daniel Craig’s going to have nothing left in the tank when I’m finished with him.”

“Oh, I don’t really want one,” I waved it off.

“You know you don’t have to bang them, right?” Andrew argued. “It’s just an option. You know, in case you’re in the mood and they happen to be about. Surely there’s another hot movie star apart from Daniel Craig.”

“No, it’s not that,” I explained. “It’s just that I’ve looked like a celebrity for my entire adult life. And part of my childhood! It’s taken some of the shine off the attraction.”

“Hmmm,” Andrew scratched his chin thoughtfully. “I think I get it. You’re kind of a pseudo-celebrity …”

“I wouldn’t say that, exactly,” I frowned.

“Well then, when you’re in that red dress you’re kind of a famous character, if not a famous person,” he said, deftly side-stepping my disagreement.

“O-o-o-kay …,” I said cautiously. I wondered where he was going with this.

“So-o-o, as Hermione Granger, you could BE a Celebrity Bang for someone else, someone with a Hermione fetish who had her as their Celebrity Bang,” he smiled grandly at what he felt was flawless logic. The thought was intriguing though. A reverse Celebrity Bang.

“You just described about half the teenage boys in the country,” Belinda laughed. “You’d better start carrying lube, Jeannie.”

“Ah-ha!” Andrew held up a finger. “But it can only be when you’re in costume!”

“I’m starting to think I should have chosen a situation more plausible than Emma Watson in the dark,” Kevin grumbled.

That gave me an idea.

“Okay!” I said brightly. “Same rules apply! If you’re accidentally banging Emma Watson in the dark, then you’re free to escort tuzla finish her off even if you find out it’s not me half way through.”

“Hmmm,” mused Kevin. “And you?”

“And if I’m being banged by a Hermione-fancier in the dark – in my red dress – and I only work out half way through that it’s not you, then I’m free to continue.”

“Deal!” laughed Kevin, enjoying the absurdity of the arrangement. Not that Belinda banging Daniel Craig was any more plausible.

“Aww,” Andrew groaned. “You’re missing the point. It’s the plausibility that makes it hot.”

“No it’s not!” I defended. “It’s the fantasy that makes it hot. And mistaken identify sex is super-hot. It’s just that in your case the plausibility IS the fantasy.”

“Agreed,” said Kevin, nodding. “Mistaken identity sex is über-hot.”

“Girl’s got a point,” Belinda raised an eyebrow at Andrew. “Daniel and Rachael don’t seem so silly now, do they?”

“That’s it. I give up!” cried Andrew, sitting back and throwing up his arms. “Where’s Rose Byrne? Has she ditched that loser yet?”

We laughed. But I was still thinking about a stranger’s hand sliding up to my bottom beneath my red dress. Good-God I was wet! I hoped Kevin was in an adventurous mood tonight.

Chapter 9 – No Means … I Don’t Know

Adventurous? I had no idea! I could tell he was frisky (we both were!) from his teasing hands in the taxi on the way home. When we got inside I goosed him on the backside and ran giggling for the bedroom, shedding clothes along the way and slamming the door behind me when I got inside.

“Jeannie?” he called after me. “Are you being naughty?” This was a familiar game by now, making him chase me and overpower me.

“No?” I said haltingly, half question and half answer, like maybe he knew better than me whether I was naughty or not. “I’m being good.” More sure this time, but giggling in spite of myself. “I’m tired. I want to go to sleep now.”

“And soon you’ll be able to,” he said sternly, trying to push the door open while I leaned against it in my bra and panties. “As soon as we’re done. You’ve been talking about sex fantasies all night, so I know you want it.” He pushed again on the door and almost opened it up. I had to stop giggling long enough to heave it closed again. That one was a warning and I wouldn’t be so lucky on his next try, so I knew to keep my toes out of the way or they’d get crushed beneath the door.

“I’ve changed my mind,” I called through the door, trying to sound serious. “I don’t want to do it anymore. You can sleep on the sofa.”

“Oh, you don’t mean that,” he said in a low and disbelieving voice. “Let me in and we’ll talk about it.” He pushed powerfully inside, knocking me backwards and sprawling onto the bed. “That’s better! I know exactly what it is you want.” He was trying to look menacing and not to smile, but it wasn’t working; he was having every bit as much fun as I was.

“No! I don’t want to,” I complained meekly, coving my bra and panties with my hands as I scooted back to the head of the bed where we now had soft, nylon nooses tied to the bedframe for my hands. I’m sure other people have far more convincing reluctance role-plays, but for us this seemed more fun. It was like one of those camp TV comedies with farcical over-acting.

Kevin came to me quickly over the bed, walking on his knees and then straddling my hips, holding my wrists tightly while he leaned down to roughly kiss me. I wanted to kiss back, back that wasn’t part of the game, so I tried to twist my face away from him (but I didn’t try very hard).

“But I love you, Jeannie,” he husked in my ear. “Don’t you want to please me?”

“No,” I cried softly as he pinned my wrists behind my head. “Leave me alone. Don’t hurt me.” I was panting in my excitement by this point and incapable of longer sentences. I could feel the hard bar of his cock pressing into my pubis through his jeans and I ineffectually tried to wriggle up so it would press against the aching lips of my pussy.

I struggled weakly as he slipped my hands through the nooses and cinched them tight around my wrists. We discovered long ago how truly difficult it is for a man to immobilise a determined woman’s hands without hurting her. Kevin can do it (by sitting on one arm while he ties the other), but it’s so hard when I’m fighting that he’s almost too exhausted to fuck me properly afterwards, so I wisely opt for token struggling and proper fucking rather than the other way around.

The same principal doesn’t apply once my hands are tied though. It was actually a bit scary how incapacitated I felt the first time he did it; in a real attack and with her hands out of commission, a woman’s only real chance would be a well-placed kick, and even then it’s only going to buy you some time – it won’t get your hands free. The first few times we did it, we just used slip-loops from which I could free myself by twisting and giving it some slack. But the one time I used our safe-word (he started spanking me, I don’t like it, who knew?), Kevin stopped immediately and earned himself a truck-load of trust. After that, I got him to tie the nooses. The feeling of being brought to orgasm when you’re truly incapacitated is indescribably hot.

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