This is the first celebrity story I ever wrote, way back in 2012, hence the references to ancient mysteries such as 'CDs', 'porn magazines', and 'Maroon 5'.
Starring: Lady Gaga
Backstage
So, I won a VIP ticket to see Lady Gaga's new tour when it was in town, including the chance to meet her backstage afterwards. Well, techncally I didn't win them at all; a friend of mine who works for the local radio station somehow managed to mess up the competition so that all of the entries were deleted at the last moment. Panic-stricken, he decided the best thing to do was fiddle it so that I was the winner.
“Look, you're the only Gaga fan I know, so it has to be you.” How does he know?!
“But I'm not-” Eric cut me off immediately. He'd only gotten the job a few months back and I think maybe the pressure was getting to him.
“Yeah you are, I saw her CDs over at your place.” Shit.
“Ah, what CDs man?”
“The ones in your bedroom, under that pile of ancient porn magazines you've had since you were seventeen. I knocked the whole stack over while looking for the bottle opener at your birthday party, and what was there in the middle?” I knew I should have downloaded them.
“Well, OK, yes, I do like her, but still-”
“Look, this is simple. LOOK.” He was starting to look kind of manic. “You go along and watch the show, which you'll probably enjoy even if you don't want to admit it. Then you go backstage, she pretends to talk to you for like 30 seconds and signs something, you go home, her PR people tell the station everything went fine, we all get on with our lives. Alternatively, you don't go, my boss finds out I fucked up and I get in a world of trouble. Also I get the drive-time DJ to play Maroon 5 requests from you every day for a month.” I could see he felt strongly about this.
So, obviously I went along with it. Even without the threat of '
Moves Like Jagger' with my name on it in public, I pretty much had to, I couldn't let him down like that. And anyway, it's not like it was any real hardship; despite my denials, I do like Lady Gaga, even if I couldn't exactly say why. Well, it might be something to do with her mouthwatering backside and her lunatic exhibitionism. I'm fairly sure she has a pretty face as well, although I'm not exactly sure. I even quite like at least some of the music if I'm honest. So really, the chance to see her in the flesh was too much to resist. Plus there was sure to be plenty of girls there, some of them bound to be hot and hopefully kind of freaky, if the stereotypes were accurate. Maybe I'd get lucky with some horny Gaga fan! Whatever happened, it would probably be better than sitting at home working my cock over her music videos.
So anyway I went. And it was pretty cool as well, especially once I got inside and realised that since everyone else was presumably a fan there wasn't much point in being nervous about being seen. I had a few drinks beforehand as well, which helped. The place was absolutely packed, it must have been full to capacity and for a moment I felt a touch of guilt for all the people who'd been cheated out of their chance to be here. Well, I wasn't the one who deleted their entries, and anyway it had been a genuine mistake. So I forgot about it and headed through the crowd towards the front.
The show started, and it
was pretty spectacular. With all the elaborate pyrotechnics and props, and armies of backing dancers, it was probably the best chance going to see an insane over-the-top performance like that. At least now KISS aren't touring. Gaga was on top form, singing and dancing through a series of increasingly crazy costume changes, each of which was both totally absurd and hugely sexy. She worked her tight body wonderfully, showing it off perfectly to her awestruck fans. Her dancing was fantastic and every move she made radiated raw sex, whether she was gyrating on her own or with the fetish-gear wearing dancers. From close to the front I had a great view of her flaunting herself, and naturally I found myself with an ever-growing erection almost immediately. The high-point was when she appeared in some kind of tutu, the stiff skirt showing off almost every inch of her perfect butt as she twirled and slid across the stage. At that moment I felt a sense of unity with the huge crowd of strangers around me, and as we swayed and bounced to the pounding music I could tell we were all thinking the same thing – was she wearing underwear or not? She kept moving just to quickly for us to see clearly; I thought it looked like she wasn't but was that really likely? It was a perfectly executed tease, exposing almost everything we wanted to see, but not quite. Needless to say it left me insanely turned on, and I knew I couldn't be the only one.
To make things even better, it looked like I had been right about the crowd. I was sure there were far more women than men, at least in the part of the crowd I was in, many of them in their full Little Monsters gear. There were women all around me, all of them festooned with wild hairdo's, crazy makeup and slutty outfits, all of them dancing and singing along. Although I did hear a small voice at the back of my mind saying that considering the fashions and the lighting some of them could have been guys; I was only slightly surprised to realise I didn't care. The experience of being in a crowd of people, all close together as we watched Lady Gaga's outrageously sexual display on stage was awesome, as was the feeling that she knew exactly what she was doing to us. As the concert reached it's climax and the audience surged forward to get closer to the stage, I felt the person behind me pressing forward against me, pushing me helplessly into the woman ahead of me. For a moment I was sandwiched between two complete strangers, their soft bodies pressing against me, and as Gaga did her best to work us into a frenzy I was momentarily tempted to start dry-humping the person in font of me. Immediately common sense reasserted itself and I for a moment I felt horny, guilty and scared all at once; the sensation was weird but sort of erotic in it's own way. Anyway, if she noticed she didn't react at all, and slowly I relaxed back into my previous sense of all-encompassing arousal. I was glad I wasn't a teenager any more – if I'd been seventeen I'd surely have cum in my pants by now. Possibly more than once.
Eventually the show had to come to an end, the last song was sung, the last costume was done with and the last battery of pyrotechnics were expended. By now I had totally forgotten my initial reluctance and was cheering myself hoarse along with the rest. I was so glad I'd been convinced to come, I'd had a fantastic time and I wasn't even done yet! The only downside was that I'd been driven to a state of intense arousal, and then left there; I had a raging erection and nothing to do with it. As the crowd slowly emptied out of the arena I could see I was far from alone; there was no shortage of couples kissing and fondling wherever they could find space. This didn't do much to ease my frustration, but then the night was still young. Surely I could find a willing playmate amongst so many horny Little Monsters? After all I couldn't be the only one who'd been left gagging for it after a show like that. The crowd was pretty slow to disperse, so I thought I'd easily have time to mingle after I'd gotten the second part of my prize. Or maybe one of the other winners would be up for it? My mind was full of the possibilities as I headed happily for the backstage entrance and handed over my VIP ticket.
An obviously bored security guard took my ticket, checked my ID and went off to fiddle with his PC for a bit, before returning and handing me a laminated plastic badge with 'VIP Access' emblazoned upon it. I slipped it into my shirt pocket, idly wondering what the real VIPs had on their badges. Perhaps if you were
really important you didn't need a badge at all. I was waved through into a waiting area and told that someone would be along to sort me out soon. The room wasn't exactly the height of luxury, in fact it looked like the break room at work only with a bigger budget. There weren't many people about, looking around; some who were obviously employees, a couple who looked like media messing around with laptops and cameras, as well as a fair few who must have been fans by their outfits and their obvious excitement. After the intensity of the last few hours the waiting room seemed incredibly quiet, with only the background hum of peoples conversations instead of pounding music and cheering crowds.
I didn't really fancy striking up a conversation with anyone there, they all seemed to be in their own small groups of friends and anyway my throat was killing me from cheering and singing earlier. I tried to relax, I was getting a little nervous now. I'd never met anyone famous before, what if I made a fool of myself? I told myself I was being silly, I'd gotten all worked up and it was affecting my thinking. I had another drink and willed myself to calm down and ignore the uncontrollable horniness sloshing around my system. For a moment I considered locking myself in an empty toilet cubicle and jerking off, just to relieve the tension, but decided against it. Things were weird enough as it is, I didn't need the psychic pressure of meeting Lady Gaga immediately after wanking in a disabled toilet. After a while I could feel the urge in my crotch starting to die away at last when I spotted a pair of beautiful girls making out furiously in a corner on the other side of the room. The intense arousal that had been building for hours returned with full force and for a few seconds I stood there transfixed. Realising I was staring, I looked away and just as I did I found myself questioning whether they were both women at all. One of them could have been a femme guy? Maybe? I found myself constantly trying to look at them without being obvious about it, it was none of my business and I didn't even care, but not knowing was insanely frustrating. God, I was sooo horny. . .
This was absurd, I was clearly losing my mind. I was starting to reconsider ducking out for that wank after all, when there was a voice beside me.
“If you've
quite finished staring at the other guests?”
“JESUS!” Clearly I had a guilty conscience. Deservedly, under the circumstances. I turned to see a woman about my age, maybe a little older, standing right next to me. How on earth did she get so close without me noticing? Her outfit surprised me, especially after being around so many people dressed as space hookers and vampire nuns, or whatever they were. Her dark blue pencil skirt was far longer than any I'd seen all night, in that it went past her knees, while above it she wore a tight grey sweater that showed off her full, round breasts almost as well as if she hadn't worn it at all. A pair of old-fashioned horn-rimmed glasses sat on a serious, pretty face. She looked like a librarian from the 1950's. A really, really sexy librarian. “I, uhhh, wasn't staring?”
“Oh?" She looked at me with an expression that gave nothing away. Certainly looked like it.” It was like being in trouble with the teacher you fancied.
“I, uh.” Fuck it. “I was trying to decide if the couple over there were both girls, or only one, or what.”
“Does it matter?” She looked across the room, then rolled her eyes. Then she looked back. “They're both. . . at least one of them is. . .” She caught herself. “Oh for God's sake, now you've got
me doing it!” I didn't say anything. “Anyway, come on then, time you met your idol. I'm Lana, her personal assistant, by the way.”
With that she turned and walked off down a cluttered corridor into the backstage area, apparently trusting me to follow. Despite her high heels and the detritus piled seemingly at random on the floor she somehow managed to move with tremendous poise, gliding along briskly whilst I scrambled along behind her trying to keep up. I would have been faster if I hadn't been paranoid about falling over and hitting myself in the crotch with something jagged. After a few minutes I managed to catch up just as she stopped in front of an elevator. For a moment we stood waiting, her the picture of elegance and me straightening my shirt and hoping no-one could see me adjusting my pants. I felt like I should say something.
“I, uh, didn't realise this place was so big.”
“It isn't really, it's just” she frowned “poorly designed. We're actually almost where we started from, we just had to walk halfway round the building to get here. It's very inefficient.” The way she said it, inefficient was the worst word she could think of. Something in her tone sent a shiver down my spine. With that the doors slid open and we stepped in. As the floors slowly ticked by, I found my eyes drawn to her reflection in the mirrored wall. She really did look stunning, even without the fact that my sex drive was through the roof and threatening to strangle my brain. I remembered reading some tabloid rumour that Gaga showered with her personal assistant and wondered if there could be any truth to that. Mmmm. . .
“You really do like to look, don't you?” I turned away guiltily.
“Sorry, I, uh” I swallowed. Well, when in doubt, tell the truth. “I'm not normally like this, ever since this night started I've been out of my mind, I don't know what's come over me.” I couldn't read her at all, her face just kept that same disinterested, professional look. “I'd accuse you of putting something in the water, if I'd been drinking it.”
“Perhaps that's your trouble?”
“No, I'm not drunk.” I paused. “Am I? I don't think I've had that much to drink, and anyway this feels different.” Why the hell was I telling her this? “Also, I think I've just worked out why I like your outfit so much.”
The doors slid open and we stepped out into a much nicer corridor, there was carpet and everything and hardly any teetering piles of boxes. She took off once more, a little slower this time. “My outfit? What about it?”
“It looks incredible because it's the opposite of what everyone else is wearing – instead of decadent exhibitionist fetishwear, it's buttoned-down and deliberately coy. Ordinarily they'd be the ones to stand out, but in here it's the reverse.” Maybe I was drunk, I'm not usually this philosophical when I'm sober. “Also, it's a look people associate with sexual repression, so it gives the impression you must be secretly waiting for the chance to explode.”
“You're not so stupid as you look. Well, not
quite.” Was that the ghost of a smile?
“Thank you. Also, you have really nice tits.” For a second or so she held her expression, before finally giving in and smiling brightly for a brief moment. “Ha! You smiled then, I know you did!” Definitely drunk.
“Well, here we are at last.” She opened a door and ushered me in to a changing room the size of my apartment, with just as much crap piled up around it. I saw a look in her eyes that said 'This place was fucking spotless when I left it'. What she actually said was “She's just sorting out some things about tomorrow's show, if you make yourself at home here she should be along shortly.” With that she left before I could say anything more.
I walked over and sat down on an expensive-looking couch, immediately sinking like a stone into the incredibly soft cushions. Well, this was nice. I settled in to wait and wondered what I'd say to her when she arrived. I was sitting for quite a while, they couldn't have forgotten me, could they? The only thing to do was wait; at least I had somewhere comfortable to sit. I noticed a laptop on the side of the couch and opened it up, thinking I might be able to at least check my email. It was black with GaGa written across the back in diamanté, I guessed it was hers? As it woke out of standby I saw media player appear on the screen; I hit play, curious to see what she watched when she was getting ready to perform. The video resumed and I saw three seriously well-hung guys fucking and sucking each other – no surprise there. My own hard cock twitched in my pants as I thought about Gaga sitting on this couch, rubbing her pussy while watching porn; I was nowhere near as big as the guys in the video but right now I sure felt like it. I paused the video after a couple seconds, minimised the window and checked my email. Nothing. Well, that killed a minute or two. I was about to put the laptop back when I noticed a glittery pink thumb drive sitting in one of the USB ports, one of those little ones. I decided to check it out, maybe there would be new songs or something else interesting on it. I vaguely remembered Nine Inch Nails doing some promotional thing a couple years back where they left thumbdrives lying around concert venues with 'secret' MP3s on; maybe this whole thing was some kind of marketing event?
There was something interesting on there, all right.
Pictures of Gaga, quite a few from the looks of it, so I clicked the first one and started to look through them. The first showed her standing in what looked like a hotel room, wearing a full length skin-tight catsuit and those trademark sunglasses. I'd seen pictures of her in something similar in a magazine photoshoot, but this was different – for a start this suit had all zips and chains on it, and for another these photos were taken differently. These looked like they'd been taken with a phone, or an ordinary camera, not professional gear. They were amateur shots, and as I paged through them with growing excitement I realised the other difference – even though she'd shown nearly everything in the media already, there'd always been something supposedly fashionable or artistic about the shoots. In this one, she was clearly posing like a porn star, not a fashion model or a pop singer. Showing off her body to get men hard and women wet, unzipping the top of the suit from navel to neck, squeezing her tits, teasing her nipple. This was incredible, it was all I could do to stop myself from pulling my cock out and wanking it right away. I looked around but there was nowhere I could disappear to, I could hardly lock her out of her own dressing room. I kept paging through the pictures, nervous and horny, again I felt sort of weird but in a pleasurable way.
The pics got better and better, after a few more of her playing with her tits the position changed; now she was bent over, thrusting her latex-clad rump towards the camera while looking over her shoulder. That lovely round ass had gotten so much of my cum, and now I was seeing it better than ever. I kept scrolling on, watching as she slapped and squeezed the shiny black material covering her rump, before undoing another zip and peeling down part of the suit, displaying her delectable, luscious backside in all it's glory. The pale, perfect skin looked stunning revealed from the slippery latex covering her. I gave up trying to control myself and started to rub my straining cock through my pants as I clicked onwards. Fuck, they kept getting better! They really did, and I could hardly believe my luck as I saw her reaching back and parting her firm cheeks for the camera. Then sliding a perfectly manicured finger into the crack, just barely touching her perfect little asshole. . .
“Oh, hey, you found my pictures!” I thought I would either cum, or have a heart attack, or both at once. When I'd reassured myself that I'd done neither, I looked up, my heart pounding. And there she was, Stefani Joanne Angelina Germanotta. After all the videos and photos I'd seen of her doing all kinds of things in all kinds of crazy outfits, it was oddly shocking to see her just standing there in front of me as a real person in normal clothes. Well, fairly normal – her skirt was some kind of golden metallic material, and her thin shirt had more silver buttons than necessary, but otherwise normal enough. Of course, my shock might also have been because she'd caught me with her dirty pictures and my hand on my crotch. She wasn't wearing make-up, and I still wan't totally sure if she was pretty or not. The sense of being weirdly attracted for reasons I couldn't explain was stronger than ever, and I looked up at her with a mixture of guilt and overwhelming lust.
“Ahhh, yes?” I struggled to think, my mind was all over the place and I didn't know what the hell to say. “I was just, ah, looking through your PC?” Fantastic.
She looked down at me for a few seconds without speaking. I glanced at my pants to make sure I wasn't still unwittingly fondling myself. “Is that really the best explanation you can come up with?”
“Well, yeah. Pretty much.” My mouth felt dry. “It's true though, so really it's the best possible explanation” I said hopefully. I was pinned to the sofa by her gaze.
“Well, yeah, I don't think that's quite the point though. . .” A moment later she burst out laughing. “Fuck, it's no good, I was going to keep teasing you but I can't keep a straight face any more. The look on your face!” She wagged a finger at me accusingly “Naughty boy!” before breaking into a fit of giggles. I don't know what I'd expected her reaction to be, but I don't think this was it.
“Hmmh, so,” she seemed to have calmed down a little now “what did you think? The pictures I mean, do you like them?” I was about to reply, but she continued “You can tell me the truth, I don't care what you say as long as you're honest.”
“They're
amazing! So fucking sexy, once I found them I just couldn't help myself, I had to keep looking.”
“Mmm, good, thats what I wanted to hear! I've been trying to show them to people for ages but it doesn't seem to be working how I planned.” I was about to ask what she meant when she continued “I want people to find them like you did, without expecting to. I've tried leaving them on memory sticks, cameras, phones in bathrooms, bars, studios. . . People just keep handing them in to lost property!” She looked quite cross for a second. “Every place I've been on this tour I've put a new camera, loaded with pictures of me doing all kinds of nice things, somewhere I know my fans will be. Every one of the fucking things is in that drawer, untouched!”
“I guess you could put them on the internet or something, pretend it was a leak or something?”
“That wouldn't be the same, people wouldn't get the same thrill from it. And if they don't, I don't either. Would you have felt the same about them if you'd been looking at them on you PC at home?”
“Well, the photos would still be fantastic of course, but” I tried to get my thoughts in order “I wouldn't have that feeling of seeing something I shouldn't, being given a look at something secret.”
“Exactly! I'm so glad you understand!” She clapped her hands together. “Right, anyway, now I want you to show me how much you enjoyed them!”
“Sorry?” Oh God, please let her mean what I think she does. . .
“Don't play dumb, you know what I mean. I want to see your cock!” She smiled like a naughty schoolgirl. “I'll show you mine. . .” Moving closer she lifted the hem of her skirt, ever so slowly revealing a beautiful bare pussy and a strip of perfectly trimmed hair. She must have seen something in my expression. “I hope you weren't expecting me to have a penis!”
“I don't know why, I just thought you'd be shaven.”
“Oh, I was for ages, but I wanted a change. Here, take a closer look . . .” She stepped right up to me, pushing that delectable-looking snatch right up in my face, enfolding me in her scent and smothering me in her firm, toned flesh. With her skirt held above and her crotch pressing insistently against me I took the hint and began to kiss, lick and suck at her. In my state of insane arousal she tasted divine and I worked my tongue into and over her hungrily. She must have liked that because she pulled her skirt all the way over my head and used it to hold my face firmly in place. “Mmmm, you're pretty good. If I'd known I wouldn't have showered after coming off stage, I haven't had a head-to-toe tonguebath since those kawaii fangirls in Tokyo.” After a while in the dark all I was really aware of was her sex, there could have been anyone in the room with us and I would have no idea. I kept on working at her as she ground against me, until I felt her shiver a little, and heard her coo with pleasure. After a few seconds she relaxed her hold on me and stepped back a little, her skirt sliding away and letting me back in the light. We were still alone in the dressing room, though I noticed the door was ajar. Blinking and breathing heavily, I looked up to see her with a slight flush to her skin and a smile on her face.
“Did you. . .”
“Mmmhmm, just a small one.” She smoothed the folds out of her skirt. “Don't get cocky, I'm always horny after a good show. . .” She was horny? I couldn't remember not having an erection. “Anyway, now you have to show me yours!” I fumbled my jeans open and at long last pulled my hard, achingly sensitive cock free. The feeling of being unconfined after all this time was incredible, I gasped with sheer relief. I gasped again when, kneeling down beside me, she wrapped her hand round it and gave it an inquisitive squeeze. “Hmmm, well, that's quite nice”
“Is that all you have to say?” Even in my current state, I knew as soon as I said it that this was a ludicrous complaint.
“Oh, fuck you!” she laughed. “Typical, you go round checking out every piece of tail that catches your eye, the moment someone does it to you you get all offended!” She punctuated her words with sudden, quick squeezes that almost made me cry out. “Lana told me about you, said you were practically drooling over her. And most of the guests.” That wasn't exactly true. As such.
“Sorry, I'm just. . .”
“Just what?”
“. . . really, really horny?” That was exactly true. I tried to explain myself, which wasn't easy, especially when she started to stroke me slowly with the tips of her fingers. “All night I've been going out of my mind, I just keep getting more and more turned on with aaaahh” she raked a perfectly manicured fingernail across my cockhead “hhhhnn, with no release.”
“Mmmm, good, that's exactly the effect I want to have on people!” No, really? “Well, not the 'no release' part. But getting people turned on, feeling excited, sexy, it's wonderful!” She looked me straight in the eye “I love sex. I love fucking, and I want everyone else to feel as good as it makes me feel.” She looked thoughtful for a second “Of course, I can't fuck all my fans” a brief frown “I just have to hope you do each other.”
“I wanted to, I was sure I'd hook up with someone, but then I went backstage and I was waiting around by myself. Then there was an ambiguously gendered couple, and then Lana, and then your pictures. . .”
“And now I'm sucking your cock, so stop whining!”
“But you're no
ahhhahhhahh” She was now, taking my whole length in one fluid movement, her tongue swirling against me. For a few seconds she held herself in place, before pulling back almost all the way and back down again. Soon she settled into an insistent rhythm, working my straining cock with her hot wet mouth. I'm not that big, above average maybe, but still I'd never had anyone throat me so effortlessly before.
“Oh that's so good!” I moaned as she fucked me with her mouth. It was a miracle I'd managed to hold off cumming for so long, I knew it wouldn't take much more of this at all. “Sooo good!” Again she took me all the way in and held me there for a few seconds before pulling her mouth off me slowly. Spit and precum drooled over my cock as she looked up at me with a sparkle in her eyes. “You're amazing!”
“Oh, you've stopped complaining now have you?” She blew against my wet cock, teasing it remorselessly. “Still unhappy about me not fawning all over you, not acting like you're the biggest, baddest thing going?”
Apparently there was still some blood left outside of my genitals because I could feel myself blushing. “I said I was sorry!”
“Apology accepted!” She planted a kiss on the tip of my cock. “See how nice things are when we all get along?” Her hand found my shaft again and she went back to agonisingly slow strokes. All I could think of was orgasm, it was so close now.
“Oh God, this is crazy, it's fucking incredible” I moaned. “You make me feel like I'm losing my mind, you're such a tease!”
“Is this what you wanted to happen all along?” I wasn't sure what she meant. “When you were looking through those pictures like a naughty boy, did you want me to catch you?”
“No, I” I groaned with pleasure and tried to collect my thoughts “How could I think this would be the result of being caught!”
“You couldn't” Back to just holding my dick. “But did you want it? Did it turn you on knowing I might catch you at it? I think part of you wanted me to walk in on you,” a squeeze “I can tell these things.”
“No, I. . .” Another, harder squeeze “I didn't want you to catch me.”
“Is that true?”
“Yes, I” She looked at me expectantly. Oh fuck. I was dying to cum and totally crazy with it. “I wanted. . . I wanted Lana.” Jesus, where did that come from? As soon as I said I knew it was true.
“Oh, it's like that, is it?” She smiled softly a for a second and I wondered what that meant. Then all of a sudden she stood up, straddled me, and lowered herself onto my wet, hard, sensitive cock. The feeling of sliding into her hot, wet hole after what felt like hours of teasing was mindblowing and for a moment I felt like I might cum there and then. Gaga began to ride me mercilessly, fucking me hard as I lay back on the couch helpless with pleasure. She felt so good around me, so tight and wet and hot, all I could do was moan. She leant forward, pulling my head against her chest. I could feel the hard metal buttons on her shirt and her soft, warm breasts under the thin material. “Don't hold back any more, just do it! Just let it feel good, and fucking cum!”
I didn't need her to tell me twice. I felt the final, inevitable rush of pleasure and stopped trying to resist. The whole night had been building up to this, hours and hours of being aroused and teased and denied, and when I finally came it was incredible. I'd never cum so hard or so long in all my life, the pleasure was so intense. I tried to say something but couldn't get the words out, not that she needed telling. I felt myself pouring into her, hot and liquid, and the sensation seemed to go on forever, each spurt bringing me so much pleasure. It couldn't have been hardly any time at all since she had taken me into her, but by the time she slid up and off me, bending down to take the last little spurt on her mouth, it felt like forever.
Every part of my body felt good, and every part felt utterly exhaused, even though I'd done none of the work. All I could do was lie back against the couch, poleaxed and helpless, totally drained in more ways than one. She bent down and kissed me on the forehead. Flushed and breathing heavy, licking cum from her lips, compared to me she was in perfect condition. Gaga took a few deep breaths, stepping back a little and smiling happily.
“I . . .” I couldn't think straight, let alone talk.
“That really was nice, I'm so glad you came to see me tonight. Maybe I'll see you around sometime.” She stretched and examined her clothes. “But now I guess I need to go and get myself cleaned up again. You should be fine making your own way out, just ask anyone.” She turned towards the door and started to leave, flicking droplets of cum off her fingers and pulling out her phone. I heard as far as “Lana? I need you. . .” before she left. The door closed this time.
I lay there for quite a while, wondering if I was going to wake up and have to change the sheets. After a few minutes I was still there on the couch. A few minutes more and I was able to zip up my pants and smooth down my shirt. There was a beep from my phone and with some fumbling I managed to get it out of my pocket to find a message from Eric.
HEY MAN U HAVE A GOOD TIME?
I was absolutely shattered and my balls ached like never before. My clothes were wet with sweat and splashed with cum. I could still taste her in my mouth, and I had just realised that the wet smear she'd kissed onto me wasn't lipstick.
YEAH
I slipped the thumbdrive into my pocket when I left.
Topic: Backstage (Lady Gaga) (Read 16089 times)