Please be a literate, detail driven writer who's capable of paragraph or two-ish writing. Also, please don't send chats, I won't see them and I surely won't reply. Lastly, I tend to use Emma Watson as a general reference for all of my prompts, but I'm absolutely open to discussing someone else, so feel free to make suggestions!

Prompt ----

Last night: Emma glanced down at a half empty glass of wine and then, after a very long moment and an uncharacteristically awkward pause, she peeked back up at her friend through a web of long lashes. "But, I mean someone's goin' to recognize me, like I don't have the same, I guess, freedom as you might." Low-throated and resigned, the perpetually single, habitually reclusive and quietly, almost imperiously gorgeous superstar shrugged her shoulders and didn't seem convinced.

Her friend, however, laughed and shook long, blonde hair out of a decidedly pretty but absolutely not famous face. "Oh come on, live a little Emma! Jus' go to like a seedy, sleazy porn shop and wear a mask until you get in. It'll be dark, so you can take it off when you're inside. Find a booth an' just have a good time, promise it'll be fine. Or go into a bathroom an' find a glory-hole if you're that worried about it, but really, you'll be fine. There'll be a few guys an' they'll be happy to pass you around for a little bit, then you'll be home an' it'll be out of your system."

Emma blanched, she blushed and she shrugged again. It did seem like just what she wanted, but the risks were enormous. After another awkward pause she murmured, "I'll think about it...."

The next evening; Emma couldn't help but want to run away as a non-descript, black SUV ground to a stop in front of what was advertised as a sex-toy shop, theater and massage parlor. Almost on the verge of leaving, Emma forced herself to breathe through the pandemic mask she'd worn. It would, she decided, be a waste of expensive, elegant lingerie and a wonderfully playful, flirty little black dress that clung to her curves and left so much skin so exposed. She fought, she thought, she bounced between realities and she finally forced herself to lock the door behind her. Modest, playful heels clicked and clattered on dark, rain-slick concrete and a dingy, greasy door closed behind her. The man at the desk didn't even ask and only looked up for a second, but long enough to flash her an amused, wry little smirk. A thumb hooked towards another door and the man mumbled, "Theaters are back that way, unless you're lookin' for toys."

Emma, on shaking legs, nodded, flushed furiously and decided this was it, now or never. She had to. She owed it to herself to live, just once. A single time. The lack of birth-control was her personal little touch, and she shook her head in a determined, willful way as the second door closed behind her and a hallway unfolded, doors littering each side.

((After a repressed and highly public life, Emma's friend suggests she go spend a few hours at a local, sleazy and shady porn-theater to finally taste a bit of reckless, wanton freedom. Pretty simple! Who she meets and how many are open to debate, but I'm open to groups and wouldn't mind including that at all! She's innocent, naive, gullible and used to getting her way, so bad-ends might make sense and I'd love, love, love if she's recognized instantly.))

Limits- feet, excessive body hair, tickling and people who are written to be intentionally unclean or unhygienic.

Kinks - anal, first time anal, painful or uncomfortable anal, cum-play, facials, extreme throat-use, cruel and sadistic men, watersports, groups, multiple penetration, toys, lingerie, larger than average cocks, threats of blackmail, blackmail itself, photography, verbal abuse, body-writing, degradation, one-sided sex, abusive sex, internal cum-shots, bukakke, risk of impregnation and so much more!