Lacey Chabert’s First Time – Part 1

Title: Lacey Chabert’s First Time – Part 1
Author: SassyGal84
Codes: MF, cons, first
Celebrities: Lacey Chabert, Jonathan Bennett
Disclaimer: The following is purely a work a fiction, to be enjoyed as such by consenting adults. If the laws of your state/country/province/territory/etc. prevent you from reading erotica because of age, etc., or if you are easily offended by the reading of erotica, now would be a good time to leave. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy


It’s amazing the assumptions people will make about you on the flimsiest of assumptions. For example, about a year ago,
I was back in Mississippi, shopping at a chain department store, when this guy stops me and says, “Hey, you’re Lacey Chabert, aren’t you?”

I gave him a smile and a “Yes, I am,” and was planning on just continuing to shop when he then went on to say, “You know, that blouse you’re wearing would look really good on my floor.”

At first I thought the guy was trying to be funny, giving me a cheesy pickup line like that, but he was dead serious! Needless to say, I just walked off and laughed, but you’d be amazed at the number of guys who think you’ll sleep with them if they give you an opening to. I think it’s the fact I’m an actress with boobs that guys make=2

0this assumption about me. Seriously. There was a time when the line between actress and prostitute was so thin it was almost non-existent. So I run into guys all the time who think, if they can just find the right line, I’ll leap into bed with them. It’s not like I have a reputation for doing that or anything. Not like some of my fellow actresses who I won’t mention.

It wasn’t always like that for me, of course. When I was playing Claudia Salinger on “Party of Five,” I was definitely the off-limits virgin on the set. Part of it was because I was playing goody-goody Claudia. Part of it was that I pretty much stopped growing when I was fourteen, and there was no development in the chest area until I was seventeen. And then there was the fact that my parents had moved with me to California when I got the part on “Party of Five”. So between me being a carpenter’s dream (flat as a board), omnipresent chaperones and a reputation for terminal virginity, I didn’t even get kissed until I was eighteen, much less experience any other type of physical intimacy.

Of course, as you can probably tell by my most recent pictures, between my seventeenth and eighteenth birthday, when my boobs came in, they came in with a vengeance! I went from measuring my bra size with a saucer to measuring it with a cup. When my breasts stopped growing, I was wearing a 36C bra.

Still, the fact that I hadn’t really gone on a date until I turned eighteen didn’t really give me a lot of confidence. The few guys I did go out with were drooling so much over my newly acquired “assets,” I doubt if any of them were aware of the color of my eyes. So their chances of experiencing my “assets” were nonexistent. And, of course, I still had my chaperones. So I ended up celebrating my birthday with not even having been felt up above my clothes. Losing my virginity wasn’t even on the horizon.

And then I began filming “Mean Girls.”

In a lot of ways, “Mean Girls” was a sort of inside joke, in that Lindsay Lohan was portrayed as the “nice girl.” I mean, she wasn’t the person she turned into recently, the one whose antics prevented her from getting any kind of work outside of a reality TV show, maybe. But it didn’t take a brain surgeon to see where Lindsay and her career were heading.

But this story isn’t about Lindsay’s self-destructive personality; it’s about my first time, so we’ll get back to my story.

I had just turned twenty, and I thought there would be no end to my perpetual virginity. Now, I can hear you thinking, Riiiiggggght, Lacey, you’re this twenty year old cute young thing, with a body that had definitely arrived, and a name that could be entered into the annals of Hollywood Hotties. Hey, I’m not saying I couldn’t have lost my virginity just by grabbing any straight guy on the set and dragging him back to my trailer. But most of those guys would be having sex with this image of Lacey Chabert in their head, not with me. And they’d probably be calling the paparazzi as soon as it was over.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t one of these actresses who were going around, proclaiming their virginity which they were going to defend until their wedding night. But I did want my first time to mean something. Not necessarily true, undying love. But I did want something there.

So, let’s get back to the story. I’m twenty years old, starting birth control (my mother’s insistence, who did want me to save myself, but also didn’t want me to have an unwanted pregnancy) and just starting work on the set of “Mean Girls.” Outside of Lindsay, who was somewhat self-absorbed, the rest of the cast and crew were really great to work with. It was going to be hard work, but still enjoyable. And, of course, I didn’t expect to find the one I wanted my first time to be with.

Then I got to know Jonathan Bennett.

Jonathan played Lindsay’s love interest in the movie and if you remember him from the movie, you could understand why that wasn’t a stretch in any way, shape or form. He’s about a foot taller than me, very nice body, not overly muscular, but still very well defined, gentle eyes, and dark hair that just invites you to run your fingers through it. Plus, he was just as easy to get along with as his character in the movie was.

Jonathan was one of those rare cute guys in Hollywood who didn’t expect any girl that he wanted to just fall in his bed. Not that he was a saint who had committed himself to his one true love since they were in middle school or anything like that. But he had a reputation of being faithful to whatever relationship he was in at the time.

When we had first started working on the movie, Jonathan was just coming out of a relationship. Nothing bad, mind you, but she (I’ll forgo mentioning her name) and Jonathan had just realized they made better friends than a couple. I think Lindsay hoped to start something off-camera as well as on-camera with Jonathan, but Jonathan just wasn’t in to her.

Now like I said, I thought Jonathan was hot, but it wasn’t like our eyes met across the room and we knew we were meant for each other. But we did get along. Rachel McAdams, who played the head “mean girl”, rated her own trailer. Not that she lorded it over us or anything. Quite the contrary. Rachel was one of the nicest people that you’d ever meet. In fact, after a day of shooting, it wasn’t unusual for me, Rachel, Jonathan, and a few others to head over to Rachel’s trailer and hang out for an hour, and then decide where to go out from there. (As you can imagine, we never saw Lindsay at one of these gatherings).

Well, one Friday night, after a particularly grueling day, we all went out clubbing, and I had had a little bit too much to drink. (Since I don’t drink that much at all, I’m something of a lightweight, both literally and figuratively). Well, I was in no shape to drive myself home, so Jonathan volunteered to do so. I was leaning against him as he helped me to my apartment, and when I got to the door, I turned to stretch up and give him a kiss on the cheek. Jonathan chose that moment to turn and say something to me, and I ended up giving him that kiss on the lips. Well, what was meant to be a peck lasted more than just a second, and sparks definitely flew. When we ended the kiss, we were both a little flushed and embarrassed, and Jonathan hurriedly said good night. When I closed the door to my apartment, I leaned against it, catching my breath. That was the first kiss I had ever had that left my body feeling more than a little tingly. Needless to say, I had a little trouble getting to sleep that night.

The next Monday was a little weird for me and Jonathan, and we kept on looking at each other and then quickly turning our heads when the other one was looking. When the day was done and Rachel invited our usual group back to her trailer, I begged off, saying I had an appointment with my trainer.

By Friday, though, things had gone back to being mostly normal with me and Jonathan, though I will admit that more than once I found myself =0

Athinking of Jonathan at what some might consider inappropriate times, such as when I was taking my morning shower. Still, when it came time for everyone to go hang out at Rachel’ trailer before heading out for the weekend, I showed up, as did Jonathan. There was still a hint of awkwardness between us, but not enough that anyone but me and Jonathan would notice it.

As fate would have it, Jonathan’s car was in the shop, and he wasn’t expecting it out until Monday. So I know what you’re thinking; how is it that an actor in a movie with some recognizable names (Lindsay Lohan and Tina Fey, who weren’t top tier at the time, but were on their way up) can’t afford a rental car? Jonathan had put his car in the garage yesterday, had one of the studio guys pick him today, and was expecting it to be finished and delivered to the set this afternoon. Well, the garage people left a message that it wasn’t going to be ready ’til Monday, so Jonathan was going to grab a ride from one of us and get one of his buds to take him to rental car place tomorrow. In the meantime, one of us was going to need to give Jonathan a ride home for the afternoon. Before I could anything, Rachel volunteered me.

“You owe him for getting you home safely from next week, anyway,” she gave as way of explanation.

Our usual gang was going to a small bar called the “Side Alley”, which had become sort of the unofficial hangout of the younger second tier actors and actresses working on the movie. Jonathan and I made small talk on the way over there, and it was comfortable enough that I came to the conclusion that I had probably put more emphasis on our accidental kiss than Jonathan had.

Normally, we would just hang out at the “Side Bar” until we went clubbing, but nearly everyone had plans for that weekend, so we all stayed only for about an hour before we went our separate ways.

Well, everyone going our separate ways except me and Jonathan.

I thought it might be a little awkward or something, but Jonathan was just his usual friendly self as I drove him home. I pulled up to his condominium and was about to wish him a good weekend, see him Monday and all that when he invited me in to see his flat screen TV. I wasn’t a big electronics person then (and I’m still not), so maybe it was a plasma TV, I’m not sure. I just know he was really proud of it, and I know some of the other guys on the set talked about watching some game or other on it at Jonathan’s. And Jonathan said he had a movie he wanted me to see. So I laughed and said sure, and we headed on in.

Well, as soon as I was settled on the couch, he grabbed a DVD and, making sure I couldn’t see what it was, put it into the DVD player. I was wondering what he was up to when the movie started. As soon as I saw what it was, I groaned.

It was me in “Lost in Space.”

“Oh, Gawd, Jonathan, turn it off, turn it off!” I mocked wrestled him for the control, but he kept it out of my reach, laughing. So we sat there and watched every campy minute of it. Jonathan grabbed us a couple of diet cokes from his refrigerator and stuck a bag of popcorn in his microwave. We laughed through the entire movie, making snide remarks about this scene or that.

“You know what really sucked about that movie?” I remarked, as fourteen year old me came on the scene in a form fitting silver uniform. “Until I was eighteen, that was the biggest my boobs had ever been.”

Jonathan glanced down at my chest and replied, “Doesn’t seem as if you’re having that problem now.”

Considering the outfit I was wearing, it isn’t hard to understand why I blushed beet red and kept quiet for a few minutes.

What outfit was I wearing? Well, the shots for that day called for me to wear this low scoop top with straps, black hip huggers and an orange sash for a belt. The top had a little built in support, since I couldn’t wear a bra with it, and it was thick enough in front that it wouldn’t show if I … er, hum … got cold.

Now, normally, you don’t wear an outfit home from the set, and definitely not for the weekend. That day, though, we fell behind schedule. I’ve been told there’s a blooper reel on the DVD release of “Mean Girls,” and most of them were from that day. Rachel and Daniel DeSanto (who plays my character’s boyfriend) just kept us all cracking up. Miss Lohan, of course, got all upset that we weren’t being professional for her. Riiight, this is the girl who skipped filmings later on in her career because of “exhaustion.”

Anyway, you need a day like that to blow off steam, and Rachel and Daniel had us all rolling. There’s a scene where I’m supposed to kiss Daniel, then slap him, but he had me cracking up every time I leaned in for my kiss!

But back on the subject. We had ended up filming late, wardrobe had gone home early (or the lady who handled my wardrobe, anyway), so I just planned to head home, hang up the outfit, and bring it with me on Monday.

So when Jonathan made the comment about me not having a problem in the chest department, he was looking at quite an expanse of my cleavage.

So back to the story. I was quiet for a few minutes, but then we got back into the business of making smart ass remarks about the movie.

After the movie was over, we talked for a little bit; me about how most of my career seemed to consist of voiceovers, him about what it was like working on a soap opera. After a few more minutes, I realized I probably should be making my goodbyes, when Jonathan interrupted me.

“You know, Lacey, I got to tell you, you’re one of the best things I’ve enjoyed about working on this movie.”

“You, too, Jonathan. I’m glad I got to know you.”

We sat there in awkward quietness for a few minutes, when I said, “Well, I guess I should get going. Have a good weekend.” I meant to just lean in for a hug. Next thing I know, we were kissing. And not just a peck, but lightning shooting through me as my toes curl up kissing.

I don’t know how long we were kissing, but I did notice when things started shifting. First, Jonathan’s kisses moved from lips, down the line of my jaw, before he began softly nibbling at my neck. This was driving me wild. Then his hand, which had been softly resting on my waist, started slowly moving up.

My breath caught at the feel of his hand sliding across the exposed skin on the side of my stomach as it moved to the small of my back, his thumb sliding under the hem of my shirt. At the same time, his lips moved to the base of my throat, nuzzling my skin. My body was awash with pleasure, and I thought my heart would burst as he traced my collarbone with kisses.

Jonathan leaned back for a second, running his finger along my collarbone. I watched wide eyed as that finger lazily traced my collar bone, then closed my eyes, my breathing rapid, as that finger dipped lower, following the scoop of my top, setting of little sensual firecrackers as I felt that fingertip run across the top of my breasts.

Jonathan moved that finger to my chin as he pulled me forward for an other kiss. I found myself completely lost in that kiss, and when his tongue sought entrance into my mouth, I let it in willing.

That kiss seemed to last forever.

When that kissed ended, Jonathan leaned back a little, running his fingers lightly across my left cheek. I just sat there mesmerized, staring into his eyes. My eyes closed and I moaned as that hand slid down my shoulder, cupping my left breast, his thumbing stroking the exposed skin of my upper breast. He did that for a minute, as I leaned into his hand. He murmured “So soft”, but I was too busy just enjoying the sensation. Then my eyes popped open as both his hands slid down to my waist, grasping the bottom of my shirt. Jonathan raised the shirt to right below my breasts, then stopped, looking me right in the eyes. I swallowed hard, then lifted my arms above my head. Jonathan pulled my top over my head and arms, then set it down on the floor, his eyes never leaving my breasts. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, and it was all I could do not to cover myself. Jonathan muttered “So beautiful” as his head leaned down, so that he could take my left breast in his mouth.

I had never felt anything so wonderful in my life! His mouth tried to draw as much of my breast in his mouth as he could, and I put my hand on the back of his head, trying to push as much myself into his mouth as I could. His tongue was swirling and batting around my now rock hard nipple, and I swear I thought I was going to cum just from that sensation.

Jonathan moved his mouth from one of my breasts to the other, pleasuring them both equally. I know it was driving me wild, and I must have sounded very disappointed when he stopped. He just gave me that smile of his, and said, “Trust me,” as he turned me around. He was sitting on the couch with one leg stretched out on the couch, the other one stretched down to the floor. He turned me so that my back was resting on his chest, with me snuggled between his legs.

Jonathan reached his hands around me, taking both my breasts in his hands, massaging them, the tips of his fingers occasionally swirling over my nipples. I placed both my hands over his, loving the feel of his hands over my skin. When one hand slowly started drifting down my stomach, I know my stomach sucked in as I waited in anticipation for what was coming next.

While one of Jonathan’s hand continued caressing and kneading my breasts, his other found the snap on my jeans. Jonathan was having some problems getting the snap undone, so both my hands slid down to the hand at my waist and undid it for him. By now my heart was ready to burst out of my chest. I pulled down my zipper, then lifted myself of the couch, just far enough to push my jeans down off my hips, before settling back down on the couch.
Jonathan’s fingers 20traced circles over my panties, and I felt my hips lifting on their own, trying to push myself into his fingers. Jonathan didn’t tease me too long; he ran his fingers one more time over the crotch of my panties, before drawing his fingertips up to my stomach, then down inside my panties. Almost immediately, his fingertip found my clitoris, and I began bucking under his ministrations.

I think Jonathan was trying to talk to me, but I didn’t understand a word he was saying. I was wet before his finger had found its way into my panties; I was absolutely soaking now, as the pleasure of what his fingertip was doing radiated through my body. It didn’t take me to long to reach my peak, and as I began orgasming, Jonathan’s finger moved faster, while his other hand slid down from my breast and across my waist, using his arm to hold me against him.

That orgasm felt like it lasted forever; when I came down, I pulled Jonathan’s hand from my panties and leaned back against him, exhausted. Both of Jonathan’s hands were wrapped around my waist, as he kept on whispering into my ear, telling me how beautiful I was. I sat there, catching my breath, and wondered where we were going from here.

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