|The Tour Pt. II
by HSWriter ©
I glanced at my watch quickly. The god damned plane was now 25 minutes late. I just sat there, at gate 24C, looking as if I had an attitude. At that time of night, Ft. Lauderdale International Airport was dead. It was the perfect time for incredibly huge superstars to travel. And I had three of those on hand. A row of chairs away from me, Britney had dawned her headphones and was laying across three seats. I admired her firm body. Sitting a few seats to my right, Jessica Simpson painted her nails, humming to herself the tunes which she had sung for 45,000 people only hours ago. Behind me, somewhat out of sight, Christina Aguilera sat reading a magazine. As I turned my head to look at her, I noticed that her reading was of Cosmopolitan. I had never known any three people more famous, more beautiful, more youthful, than these three who sat with me in patient anticipation of our private jet which would whisk us away to our next destination.
As I sat there, staring off into space, I realized that even though these three, gorgeous young women were superstars, they were still regular, everyday teenage girls. They worried about insignificant and trivial problems, and they were exited by instances of even less significant. To them, everything was "soooo sweet" and "sooo cute". I kept pondering the events between myself and Britney. To me, it was a heavenly handjob. What was it to her, though? Was it a case of puppy love? Would she become attached? I was considering calling Bob Mason and asking him for another assignment. I thought that maybe a sexual relationship with one (or more) of these girls could cause more trouble then their already hectic teenage lives could handle. Should I quit? I sat there, silently contemplating all of the options. I would probably never get another shot like this to direct a huge tour like this one. Was it worth it to give up a chance like this? 'Of course not', I thought as Jessica stood and stretched out, her luscious curves accented by the bending of her body. It was right then and there that I decided that I was going to stick with the tour, and I was going to have any sex that was offered to me by these girls. Because I was young, and I had the rest of my life to be a boring, average American. I was going to live.
"The plane is here." Christina announced. The three girls all stood, almost in unison, and walked to the double glass door which lead out onto the tarmac. I slowly stood and followed behind them. As I followed them out to the plane, I admired the way their cute little teenaged asses waggled back and forth as they walked. It was the sexiest thing about young girls.
We finally reached the plane. It was dark, and it wasn't until we were close to it that I got a really good look at it. It was a huge, quad engine 777. The exterior had been painted with our tour logo. I followed the girls up the stairs and into the plane. There, we were met by the captain. He introduced himself as Rob. This was all fine and dandy. He even had a good excuse for being late.
After Rob informed me that we would be taking off in ten minutes, he returned to the cockpit. I went to the rear of the plane. The first room I entered resembled a living room. There were three leather couches all facing a 32" TV well equipped with a DVD player and a VCR. To the side of the room was a small bar, well stocked with liquor. As I moved to the back, there was a wide corridor, with two doors on each side. Each door represented a room. This plane had been specially revamped on the interior for this tour, it was only customary. At the end of the corridor was a large bathroom with a three person shower and a hot tub. I laughed lightly to myself as I realized the incredibly unnecessary luxury of this plane. But, I knew that it was Bob Mason's way. It was how he liked to treat his stars. That may have been one of the reasons why his young company had grown so quickly and become so successful.
I entered the second room on the right. It was the only one without a gold star. And as soon as I opened the door, I knew why. It was plain, even somewhat bland. I wasn't shocked. There was a single bed with a small nightstand and a cheap alarm clock which was 20 minutes slow. There was a chair and a table in the corner across from the bed which was for work. For now, I would use it to hold my suit case. I set my bag down and sat on the bed, carefully adjusting the alarm clock to the time on my sharp silver Rolex. I then proceeded to remove my watch and set it on my nightstand. The girls were due to make an appearance in Paris for the International Fashion Conference before we moved on to our next show two days later. I expected to get some sleep on that plane, and it would be easy with a bed instead of a business class reclining seat. I took off my jacket and my tie. I then removed my dress shirt and hung it on a hanger, suspended from the handle of the door. I kicked off my shoes and set them in the corner, under the table.
There was a tall mirror on the back of the door, which I admired myself in. I know, it sounds like a thing only a conceded woman would do, but I did look damn good. I worked out regularly, and I had a chiseled build. I stood there, in my pair of black dress pants and an undershirt. After a moment or two, I exited by room, seeking a stiff drink to remove the stress of running a feature tour. As I exited the room, I was almost trampled by Britney as she emerged from the bathroom. She was wearing a pair of old sweatpants and a white tanktop, under which there was no bra to speak of. She was in the process of tying her blonde hair back into a ponytail.
"Wooah!" I exclaimed, barely escaping getting run down by the young star.
"Excuse me Josh." She said sweetly with a smile. "I'm headed for bed. I need my beauty rest." She finished with a giggle, disappearing into her room. That was the last I saw of her for the night, unfortunately.
I continued on my way to the front room. The TV was now on. As I entered the room, I saw Jessica sitting there on the leather couch in the middle. She was wearing sweat pants and a tight T-shirt, obviously without a bra. Her golden blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail as she watched a late night movie. I didn't pay attention to what was actually on the TV, I couldn't take my eyes off of her hot young body.
"Hey there." I greeted her, walking behind the bar.
"Hi." She replied with a small hint of a sigh.
"Would you like a drink?" I asked politely; meaning nothing by it.
"Sure." She replied.
"Where is Christina?" I asked as I poured us each a glass of the fine wine which had been stored in the small refrigerator under the counter of the bar.
"She went to bed." Jessica replied. "She was really tired.
"Well then, I guess it is just you and me." I said with a smile. I picked up the two glasses and walked over to her. I extended my arm to hand her the glass, but then I stopped, holding the wine just out of her reach. "Wait a minute. How old are you?" I asked jokingly.
She smiled, almost seductively. "I am old enough."
"Hmmm." I sat down next to her and looked up at the TV. There, on the screen was a man and a woman engaged in hot sexual embrace. The man had his face buried deep in the woman's crotch.
"Wow." I said as though I had never seen sex before. "That looks interesting."
Jessica took a long sip of her wine. "She looks like she is enjoying it." She remarked, referring to the way the woman was moaning loudly and bucking her hips hard against the man's face.
I was taken back somewhat. "Yes she does. But this is a movie. Sex like this doesn't exist in real life." I commented, trying to spice up the conversation a little.
"No." She replied. "Sex like that just doesn't happen to you."
I was hurt a little. "Well, can you honestly say that you have ever had that sort of thing done to you?"
"Not really..." She trailed off.
"Trust me." I explained. "I have done that."
"Oh yeah." She urged. I could tell that she was either a little anxious or a little scared. It was probably a mixture of both, though. "How many times?"
"Once." I replied, almost under my breath.
"Well," she kept going, "does that make you an expert?" She gave me a seductive gaze, her deep brown eyes staring directly into my own.
I didn't know what to say. I wanted to kiss her more than anything in the world. I wanted to feel her sweet lips pressed gently against mine. I wanted our tongues to dance together in passion. I wanted to say the right thing. "Maybe." I replied stupidly. At least it seemed stupid when I said it. But, to my surprise, it brought passion and lust into her eyes.
Slowly, and somewhat unsurely, she leaned in, holding her breath and closing her eyes. My body was at the point of melting, and we had not even touched. Instinctively, my eyes closed as our lips met. Her taste was of the finest fruits and her lips of the softest silk. Our lips parted in unison, bringing our tongues together. My tongue danced inside her young mouth, flowing from inner cheek to inner cheek. My tongue stretched for the top of her mouth, and found it. Her tongue worked its own magic on the inside of my mouth. Our tongues then joined together as I reached my strong arm around the small of her back and pulled her body close, her firm breasts connecting naturally with my own pectorals. Her back arched as her lungs spurted a gentle moan.
Our mouths maintained the sweet embrace as my hand gently, almost methodically, moved to her firm, young abdomen. I gently caressed her stomach for a moment, holding back attention from her breasts. She pressed her body into mine hard, her breasts pleading to be massaged by my strong hands. My hand slipped gently underneath her tight, cotton shirt. Moving upward toward my goal, I let my hand brush lightly against her soft skin. Reaching her breast, I took it into my hand and began to massage it gently, tweaking her nipple lightly between my middle and index fingers. Her moans came again from deep within her beautiful young body.
|Another top quality story by HSWriter.|
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