The Voxe: Number One

"M-Maria, please, listen to me; this is your singer speaking. Of whom you're the number one fan. Maria, I don't know what you want from me, but honestly, this is not the way to go about it. Whatever you want: a...a-a poster, free tickets, an autographed album, anything. You can even have some of my handwritten sheet music! Or, unreleased song recordings no one's ever heard! Anything! Just please untie me, and we'll talk it over. I promise, Maria, I won't call the cops. I won't do anything. Just please untie me."

Maria shook her head with a deceptively friendly-looking smirk. This did not bode well.

"Oh, Velette," she exhaled. "Dear, sweet, fabulous Velette...

"You underestimate me."

I didn't quite understand this, but I didn't like the sound of it.

"You honestly think I care about any of that?...Be real. I am not just any fan, my heroine, my queen, my life blood. If you only knew...

"Oh...the torture, Velette. Oh, the hell I put myself through all those years. Longing past the music, the lyrics, the pictures, the videos, the interviews...my seething envy of those lucky bitches close enough to touch you...they call themselves fans, Velette. Die-hard fanatics for the ages. But let me ask you something...

"Have any such so-called 'fans' ever followed you around the country, city by city, starving themselves, emptying their bank accounts for but gasoline and concert tickets? Have they, Velette? Have they somehow found their way to each and every live show, living in their cars by a soundtrack of the incomparable Voxe, for hours and hours on end? Lying awake through the nights, crying the misery away? Wishing and waiting for that magical day, dreaming and praying for those few precious minutes to share the stage with her, to be sung to...just to make a part of their empty, meaningless lives whole?...If only for five minutes?"

She stopped. Her voice had begun to crack towards the end of her speech. I didn't know what to say or how to feel. A hundred emotions fought for place in my head. I felt scared, freaked out, humbled, flattered, sympathetic and helpless all at once. This girl Maria had crossed a line here tonight, there was no doubt. But as I lay and processed what she'd just explained to me...I genuinely began to feel Stockholm Syndrome taking me over. God, the poor thing really had been beyond hell and back yearning for...for...me? I knew fame and fandom could have powerful effects on a person, and as a celebrity and an entertainer, I did feel responsible for my Voxers' happiness—to an extent. But...

"I had no idea."

Maria seemed to have turned solemn. She perched on the foot of the bed, between my own feet. She hung her head and brushed a tear.

"I just love you so much, Velette..."

I felt sympathy succeeding my shock over this girl subduing my bodyguard and invading my privacy—a star's privacy is extremely limited anyhow—as she continued spilling her adoring guts out to me.

"...I cannot express it in words. You have no idea, Velette...you've no idea what you've done for me. The meaning you've given my life. You made it worth living. So many times I felt I couldn't go on another second, but you and your music...it saved me. Years and years. I was never alone. As long as I had my iPod nearby and a song in my head and my heart...I got by. You saved my life, Velette. Over and over."

Oh, Lord...the poor girl was truly messed up, but not just in the way I'd suspected. She was sick. Not as in the description of a disgusting or grotesquely ill person, but clearly trapped in the clutches of her emotions. Her lonely, disturbed, broken emotions. Her will to live hung in the balance by a single strand, that strand represented by myself. So I was the force driving her motivation, keeping her going always another day. Ostensibly, she'd latched onto me at some point in my career, and her clinging had grown only more desperate and insistent. Without me in her life, she seemed to be saying, she'd feel, have and be...nothing.

She was right about one thing: she was much more than just an ordinary run-of-the-mill Voxer. But one other thing had me stymied.

"But...Maria..." I said, struggling against the ties, subliminally communicating that I still wanted her to untie me. "If...if you've been feeling this strongly, and you've been following me all over the place, like my unknown roadie...then please tell me something. Why would you choose tonight, of all nights, to track me down, tase your way past my bodyguard and do this to me? I'm-I'm definitely not saying it's okay to do this. It's not, Maria. But if we were always in the same cities, and you could have done this at any point...what was so special about tonight?"

Maria abruptly turned, and began crawling up on me, on all fours. I widened my eyes, arched my brows, and clenched my muscles.

"Because it was my birthday, Velette. And because since I've turned my back on everything and everyone else, I knew I had to spend it with you. And because I knew if you sang to me on stage, I couldn't bear to just let it end, to just let you go away and forget me."

I couldn't tell any longer if she was about to cry or not. I didn't know what she might do. I just gazed into her eyes as she spoke.

"Because I could give myself no finer birthday gift...than a night of passion, and intimacy with you and you alone, Velette."

My mouth dropped open. Did...did she just say...

"And, also importantly, because I knew tonight you'd be alone, with your manager away on business."

My trepidation resurfaced. Holy God. This girl was no garden-variety fan, or garden-variety stalker, either. She not only knew everything about me, she knew the schedules and agendas of my associates as well. Furthermore, if she knew this much, she probably also knew how long Lisa-Anne was meeting with our executives. I didn't even know that detail. And we both knew how vulnerable she had me right now. I had no protection. She held all the cards. I whimpered as she inched up nearer and nearer, letting the contours of her body brush over mine.

"I don't want autographs, tapes or scores, Velette..."

Her voice eerily slowed down and intensified.

"I already have all of those things."

Oh no. I saw where this was going. Oh, no, Maria, please...

"Maria, you can't do this!"

"Oh...but I can. And, I shall.

"What I DON'T have, Velette..."

That did it. That confirmed it. I couldn't let this happen. I shook my head.

No...no, Maria, please! You can't! You mustn't! Don't! Please!

It was all in vain. She dropped her arms from underneath, and let herself fall.

"...Is you!"

"MMMM!" I protested, as she landed on me, seized my face by the cheeks and took me in a rapturous first kiss. Her hair fell tranquilly on me like a soft sprinkle of rain. She too made this sound, but hers was fueled by unstoppable yearning, and desire, and dare I even say, need. Maria needed this to happen. But still, I couldn't let it. Almost as a reflex, I tried to buck her up and away with my torso, but immediately realized what a mistake it was. Not only did it not work, she felt me thrust against her, and took it as a personal invitation to go yet further.

"MMMMMM!!" she roared, keeping our lips locked, concaving me down into my pillow. I felt her run...her fingertips through my hair...as if life had just begun...her fingers there and everywhere. My forehead, my eyebrows, my temples, my nose, my chin, my earlobes and my jaws. Involuntarily, I felt my heart and blood begin to race. Maria's insurmountable passion hit me so fiercely, I was all but instantly swept away. She was warm, charged and eager, and yet...gentle. For all her explosive Voxe "va-va-voom," as she elocuted, I detected a tender softness in the vigorous way she thrust herself upon me, and let her hungry lips do the talking. Perhaps I'd misdiagnosed here, by the token that she was small, petite and light—whereas, for example, Lisa-Anne was taller, with a curvaceous build and a bit more meat on her bones. But somehow, my initial analysis held up as she went on.

She sucked hard, wanting my tongue. I held my eyes open on her, as if by letting them close I'd be admitting myself to her seduction. I watched her young, pure feminine face grimace in the throes of the fire she'd just ignited, and I saw that she could not be sated. She was starved, endlessly, impossibly famished for more...always more. Her poor expression read a mere 20-something years of age, but yet wore such tortured burdens. I could see the truth of the story she'd told me in her closed, anguished eyes. I found a startling dichotomy in her: the rough, unforgiving aggression she'd demonstrated in tasing Calvin, hacking her way into my room and overtaking me, versus the gentle, genuine heart she filled her lovemaking with. One minute she was a psycho stalker...the next a delicate, fragile waif in need of affection.

Either way, she remained true to her word. None other but my number one fan in the world could communicate love quite this way. Try as I might, I was fighting a losing battle to hold back. I had no clue how I'd explain this to Lisa-Anne—to say nothing of the press, should necessity take that turn—but little by little, Maria drained my resistance. Her tender intimacy made things no more right. But were I to remove all hindrances and focus on the facts literally right in front of my nose...a young girl who needed me in her life was draped over my sweaty body, pouring herself out to me in the form of beautiful kisses. A warming embrace. Soothing caresses. Half-muffled sweet nothings the likes of which I'd never heard. A...

Something diverted my attention. Was she...

Oh, my God. She was disrobing herself. My heart ricocheted off the inside of my chest and slammed crazily at this novelty. I anticipated that in another moment I would feel her naked front graze against mine.

And if I had to be completely honest, I was having trouble waiting.

I couldn't halt her if I wanted to. More shocking yet...I didn't want to. At all. On the contrary; I wanted it almost as much as she did.

She paused the kissing to whip the Velette shirt up over her head and release it, letting gravity take over, and started to do the same with her bra. She had me so disarmed—quite literally—if my hands weren't bound over my head, they would automatically have shot down to her hips to rip her pants right off, much the same as she'd done with my nightgown to get at my flesh.

Cut to sixty seconds later, pants and underwear were neither longer an issue. She whipped them off on her own, rendering herself that final bit more naked than I. At last, she lapped herself back over me, and her pristine skin and returning body heat took my breath away.

My eyes closed.

*****

The next immeasurable span of time was a hazy blur as Maria bathed me in yet more kisses, adoration and words of worship. One by one, closer and closer to the surface, I felt my hormones, my erogenous zones, my hot hot body at last awaken. She fed me dose after dose of steamy goodness, seemingly unable to let up. She fondled me about the neck, the shoulders, the underarms—which normally would have tickled like hell but right now did nothing of the sort—the collarbone, between my heaving titties...and back to my face and hair. I soon couldn't help it; so badly I craved her to handle my now throbbing cunt in such need of love. Maria made me feel like the randy British super-hottie vixen from the '80s with the perfect last name, Samantha Fox.

"Touch me, touch me, I wanna feel your body...your heartbeat next to mine...this is the night, 'cause I want your body, all the time..."

I actually came close to Samantha Karen Fox once at an LGBT event, but I didn't get to meet her—which was perhaps not such a bad thing. At the time we were both being managed and handled by our girlfriends, which made me think of myself as the American Sam Fox (or her as the British me). Of course, as well-endowed as I am...damn...Samantha's still just a little more. As I briefly ran her through my mind—which did not hurt my lovemaking drive—another of her titles popped up, and I swore I saw it flash across Maria's face.

Naughty girls need love too.

Something still faintly echoed inside me that this just wasn't right, but moral and ethical guidelines were teetering on the edge at this point. And somewhere in the midst of all this which wasn't right but didn't feel wrong...Maria grabbed me...in just that well-endowed area.

"MMMM!!" I verbally blazed, moaning into her mouth, lurching upwards with all my gumption, throwing her a desire-charged hump. She responded in kind, and we commenced to sending waves through the bed. Keeping one paw groping at my tits, she held me around the back with the other, and I felt her pussy generate a layer of arousal. This set off a sizzling chain reaction. My lips curled up into a grin, as a hot jolt struck through me as well, almost forcing me to cum on myself—almost, not quite.

"Oh God," I gasped, detaching from the kiss, smiling at her. "I just felt Little Maria say hi."

Maria blushed. "She's your number one and a half fan."

The whole she-bang shot up a level as our cunts got involved. Maria seized me at the tits, one by one, smoothing my rapidly stiffening nipples between her fingers. She made me constantly hunger back and forth, wanting attention for the neglected breast, as the other received love. I might have thought that I was immune to the stuff, but now it would seem that I could not get enough. We leaked over each other, exchanging and smearing pussy moisture with our thrust-humping. I yanked and jerked on the ties she'd secured my limbs with, wanting so damn bad to return her love with my own finesse and dexterity. Especially as I thought I began to feel our clits nub and nuzzle one another.

"FUCK," I stated.

"Seconded," returned Maria.

I could feel us rocketing towards the zenith, the point of no return, confirmed by the flames shooting up through us from the mattress. Even so, my mind managed to wander in a strange direction I knew I shouldn't consider, but did. Maria's sex showed consistent integrity. She didn't compromise in her fucking abilities, and something about her somehow remained...wholesome. I couldn't imagine Maria doing something crazy to me, such as attaching an electrode to my pussy, or driving me batshit insane with a French tickler. I didn't see her utilizing gadgets, or wild kinky novelties, the way Lisa-Anne did now and again. Not that there was anything so wrong in this, or that Lisa-Anne's techniques were somehow "inferior" because she used gizmos. Hers and Maria's were merely two different styles of lovemaking, which I was granted the great privilege of comparing.

God, what was I saying, thinking, doing, one part of me asked. I was cheating on Lisa-Anne, for fuck's sake. Against my will, and yet, I allowed myself to fall into it and withdraw my protest. Countless questions and contrasting points ran through my head, most in the vein of "is it cheating if you're being raped," and still, I didn't have the concentration to consider it this far. And honestly, it was near impossible to label it rape at this point. Maria's persuasion was so compelling, so golly-darned enthralling, I was unable to fight it.

What do you know, I thought to myself, The lyrics are true, some of them.

She moves like she don't care, smooth as silk, cool as air, it makes you wanna cry...

Don't you wanna take her, wanna make her all your own...

She suddenly slipped due south from my eye level, gliding her back hand to my ass, her other along my thigh. She spread me, opened me, went down...and the world began to quake.

Her free paw jumped, grasping and squeezing me at random, insanity-inspiring points. I balled up my fists and toes, willing the infernal ties to come apart, unable to stand it. She got to licking and eating me, making everything spin furiously like I was blind drunk. Which I very well could've been. It was my turn to wince and grimace in longing as Maria devoured me, consuming me, lapping me up like a thirsty dog. Oh, how I was dying to reciprocate in any way feasible. Oh, how everything ran wild in me. Oh, how I loved it.

I felt her lock one of my legs in both of hers, logically giving her hot, dripping pussy something to push against while her mitts were occupied with me. This only added to my ecstasy. Her hands joined her diligent mouth, generously and brilliantly catering to my own Little Letty's every need. Between the girl's ten fingers, lips and tongue—which, God, was a hella-long powerful tongue—I was thoroughly taken care of. She licked, flicked and sucked my clit. She penetrated me digitally. She fingered the bottom of my slit to where the taint met my asshole. She tickled my clitoral hood with the tip of her nose. She eased multiple fingers in and out to reach my vaginal walls and ride the fleshy top ridge. She tweaked my doorbell. She slicked my labia inside and out in full, loving tongue lashes. Finally, she found and settled into my ideal combination. One set of fingers circumnavigating my clit and surrounding anterior, the other toying with my taint and asshole, and her Gene Fucking Simmons tongue hard at work in between, swishing inside, brushing each pussy wall in a fell swoop, again and again, until I began shrieking. She knew she was doing something very right, and so, God love her, she proceeded.

"OHHHHH!! OHHHHHHHFUUUUCK!!"

I could only figure she must have been grinning. I could only figure anything. My vision was virtually gone.

"OHHHFUCKINGSHIIIIIIIIT!! MARIIIIAAAAAAAA!!"

That's my name, don't wear it out, I imagined her cooing tranquilly in my ear. She brought me to tears, making us even. All of a sudden, I heard the music surround my dizzy little head, just as when I'd made her cry with joy six hours ago.

Maria...you've gotta see her...go insane and out of your mind...

"OHHHHHHHOOOOOLYGOOOOOD!!"

Regina...Ave Maria...a million and one candlelights...

"AHHHHHHMGONNACUUUUUUMMM!!"

She had me screaming for release. Thank God I didn't have a show to do right after this. With the chorus on indefinite loop, I willed her faculties to hold out, raised my front and hind paws as high as they were allowed, took the tie holding my wrists together, seized it in my palms and pulled with all my might until my hands bled. My screams only loudened and loudened as she sent me into oblivion and beyond. I lost tangible feeling in my back and started floating on air. Stars exploded, sending me careening through limitless space. Time stopped. Earth stopped. A crack opened in the universe. It was finally about to happen, and the full brunt of it all held off until it did.

My final screech blew the others to shame. Maria sucked the literal cuntload of cum out of me like a vacuum, turning Little Velette Vanderbilt into Velette Vesuvius. Her devotion to me as well as to the act was flawless, and her efforts showed in the result. I could merely imagine I drenched her in my hot sticky love cream. But she didn't let up until she was sure I was through, which I finally told her by gasping out, "Okay! Okay! Stop! Please, Maria, stop! That's...that's enough! I'm done! Please! No more!..."