Bab's Backstage ClusterFuck by Stardog Champion
Celeb(s) – Barbra Streisand, Jennifer Lopez
Codes – MF, M+F, Gang Bang, Oral,
Originally posted on August 25 2002 at CSSA
The music scene in 2001 was just as fickle and topsy-turvy as it had always been in the 30 or more years Barbara Streisand had been a major player in the pop culture scene. Even though she hadn’t garnered a chart hit in over two decades, her legions of dedicated fans still hung on every move she made.
Why she was easing out the back of her long sleek limosuine and walking up the red carpet of Los Angeles’s Staples Center, to attend this year’s Grammy Awards, was more about her celebrity and need to promote an upcoming PayPerView special than it was about any contribution she had made to the recording industry during the past year.
Even with the dozens of other younger and more hip artists assembled, when Barbara strode up the walkway in her $5,000 custom made evening gown, the blinding flash of the paparazzi focused on her put most of the other ‘in’ celebrities to shame.
Strutting up the plush red carpet at a snail’s pace, waving and smiling as if she was completely at home with the crush of attention, Barbara thrusted her chest out with pride, realizing she had the world by the tail. As night fell on Los Angeles and Bab’s and her entourage disappeared inside the Staples Center, the 58 year old singer was on the top of the world.
Shaking hands and making small talk with the litany of other celebrities littering the hall, an hour and a half before show time, Mrs. Streisand’s mood took a sudden downturn when she arrived at her dressing room.
Looking at the door of the room Barbara’s agent told her was going to be reserved especially for her, when Bab’s saw the star on the door, a gnawing deep seeded bitterness billowed inside her belly.
“WHAT IS THIS!” Barbara yelled out, flailing her arms out in an exaggerated show of disgust.
The glitter laden name of Jennifer Lopez, accentuated by a very large and shiny star, stared Barbara Streisand directly in the face as she stewed noticeably.
Award shows were old hat for the aging crooner, so she totally understood how mistakes and misunderstandings could come about. It wouldn’t have been so bad for Barbara if it wasn’t for the internal embarrassment she felt, getting mixed up with such a complete no-talent like Jennifer Lopez.
“Look..wait..wait,” Barbara heard her agent stammer when he sensed his client’s outrage. “Just wait right here Mrs. Striesand..I’ll be right back..I’m going to straighten this right up,” he added, taking off in a blazing dash.
All of the sudden alone in a sea of much younger, plastic people, Barbara felt entirely out of place. Fuming, she tried plastering a fake smile across her face, waiting for her agent to return after clearing up the confusion.
Standing her ground, trying her damndest not to be run over by the cattle like flow of people going in both directions, the opened sore of Barbara's insecurity was infected further when she realized the surrounding clamor was not intended for her.
All Barbara kept hearing echo in her head was “Ms. Lopez…Jennifer... Hey J. Lo…”
It hit Barbara Streisand like a club to the stomach that none of the attention was for her, all she was to the passerbys hounding Jennifer Lopez, was a well dressed lamppost standing in front of the younger singer/actress’s door.
Feeling as if Mt. Vesuvius was about to erupt inside of her, Barbara simply couldn’t bring herself to stand out in the hall any longer. Wrapping her dainty hand around the knob to Jennifer Lopez’s dressing room door, Barbara twisted it and was a little surprised when the door opened for her. Before she could even gather her thoughts, the brutish passersbys nudged Barbara through the unlocked entrance, into a situation chalk full of severe uncertainty.
Once Barbara was able to stabilize herself and scan the room, she felt as if she stumbled into some sort of giddy sorority house.
Three of Jennifer’s backup dancers were converged around the row of makeup mirrors in various stages of undress, looking back at the older singer in the doorway as if she were something that had just fallen from outer space.
“Who the fuck are you?” one of the dancers asked bluntly, causing the Grammy veteran to visibly simmer.
Gazing quickly to her right, Barbara saw several of Jennifer’s male dancers off to the side of the cramped room. Bab’s instinctively clutched her purse to her chest when she saw them licking their lips sarcastically as they sized up the immaculatly dressed, classy looking visitor.
“Who the fuck am I?” Barbara muttered to herself.
“You should know who the fuck I am,” Bab’s hissed back at the twentyish dancers. “I am the one that is supposed to be here..IN THIS dressing room. Now all you..little..little..litle tramps..get your stuff together…. AND GET OUT!”
A chorus of, “What?”, “Who the fuck do you think you are?”, “Shut up you old Bitch!” ,rained down on Barbara from the male and female dancers as she stood her ground, disgusted by the lack of respect and dignity she was being shown.
Guided by the power of knowing she was never wrong, Barbara angrily strode up to the group of Latin girls that were mocking her, and stood right in front of their faces, re-affirming her order to leave.
“I said this is my dressing room... GET UP AND GO...NOW!!” Barbara hissed in her rudest New York accent.
“Shut the Hell up you old Skunk,” one of the Latin girls immediately replied, burning a hole through the Jewish Diva’s frame with her fiery midnight eyes.
Barbara felt her anger burn to the point of nuclear fusion as the girl, that was over half her age, succinctly put her in her place. When Barbara’s internal restraint gave way under the deepest amount of disrespect she had ever been subjected to at such an event, she reared back with her well manicured right hand and prepared to slap the saucy young dancer right across the face.
As Barbara Streisand reared back, looking strangely like Nolan Ryan getting ready to throw a fastball, she could see the young girl’s expression freeze from the sudden expectation of getting hit. Just as Barbara allowed her right arm to spring forward, out of nowhere, something grabbed her arm like a grappling hook, preventing her from following through.
Barbara instinctively pulled away from the clutches of what was holding her from behind, preventing her from inflicting the damage she had intended to do. Hyperly, Barbara spun around and confronted the asshole that had stopped her.
What Bab’s saw was the same, all too familiar, face that had been on every edition of Entertainment Tonight, MTV and news programming for seemingly 6 months, the glaring face of Jennifer Lopez.
Mumbling as if she had marbles in her mouth, Barbara simply couldn’t string the words together to enunciate her futile anger.
Keeping her vicelike grip clamped around Barbara’s upper arm, Jennifer stood there staring straight back at the angrily blushing older woman, wondering why she was in HER dressing room, trying to slap one of HER dancers.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Jennifer hissed in her own jagged accent.
“Let go of me,” Barbara hollered, trying to twist herself free like an animal held in a trap.
Unaccustomed to feeling like a caged rat, every nerve in Barbara’s being quivered with vile wrath as she summoned all the strength in her aged body to squeeze away from Jennifer’s cinched fingers.
When Bab’s finally succeeded in ripping her arm free, for just an instant, she felt vindicated. When everyone in the room froze in hushed silence and fixated their eyes on her, Barbara felt a strange sensation of vague uneasiness wash over her. Looking back at Jennifer behind her and the wide eyed expression covering her face, Barbara felt as if time had stopped. When the cool air-conditioned air filtering through the dressing room gradually felt too close to her skin, the Jewish diva hesitantly looked down and discovered why the room had suddenly come to a hushed standstill.
Seeing the black and red sequenced material of her dress sleeve still in Jennifer’s hand, Barbara numbly looked down to see that elegant evening gown had ripped like nothing more than cheap K-mart garment when she had desperately tugged herself free from Lopez’s clutches.
Realizing that her heavy, sagging tits were in clear view, tucked tightly into a lacy black support bra for everyone in the room to see, Barbara felt her eyes water with tears of shame as the young girls and guys in Jennifer’s entourage looked at her half naked body with petrified glee.
Barbara felt an overwhelming desire to run as fast as she could out of the dressing room but cold, hard reality kept her feet planted right where they were. Knowing if she did make that mad dash, all that would be waiting on the other side of the door was every media outlet in the free world, all the industry bigwigs, as well as too many life long friends to count.
“So you really think this is YOUR dressing room…huh,” Bab’s heard a male voice from behind her insinuate.
“Just how bad do you really want this room… Bitch?” Barbara heard Jennifer’s familiar voice add.
Before she could even find the fortitude to formulate a response, Barbara felt Jennifer’s hands dig into the remaining material of her expensive party dress, and with one fell swoop, rip it all the way down to her quivering ankles.
Clad in nothing now but her black bra, matching black panties and thigh high hose covering her goosebumped legs, Barbara clasped her arms loosely around her torso in an attempt to conceal her near nakedness.
“MMMHHHMMM..so you really think this room belongs to ya…Huh…you washed up has been,” Barbara could hear Jennifer hoarsely whisper down, her hot breath causing the hair on the back of Bab’s bare neck to stand on end. “If you want this dressing room so bad Bitch... then you can have it... just get down there….AND EARN IT!”
The words, ‘earn it’, echoed relentlessly inside of Barbara’s head.
“I have earned it you slutty little whore! I’ve been in the business before you popped out of your Momma’s cunt …you…you…. little Latin Slut,” Bab’s forcefully shot back.
“Is that so,” Jennifer replied soberly. “Well then... I guess you won’t be staying here...you are welcome to take a walk anytime you want…like right now,” She sarcastically offered, waving Barbara away.
Looking down at her tattered nakedness, Barbara realized there was no way she could go back through that door and into that hallway in her current state.
“Going once,” Jennifer slowed chimed in.
“Going twice,” A male voice added.
“GONE…Guess that means your staying… Skank!” The young Latin dancer right in front of Barbara finished the thought.
“I’ll say it one ..more.. time…get down on your knees and lets see if you can... EARN... this dressing room,” Jennifer ordered firmly.
Realizing she had no other option, Barbara felt her head start to spin as she begrudgingly tried bending her rickety legs until her silk covered knees landed hard on the plush maroon carpet below.
Hearing Jennifer loudly snap her fingers from behind, Barbara saw several of the dancers start to scurry about the room out of the corner of her eye.
It felt like a 2 by 4 to her gut when Bab’s thought she had figured out what they intended to force her to do. Hearing the naughty way everyone in the room was giggling, Barbara wallowed in the sick realization that Jennifer was going to make her give all the young male dancers oral sex while she was there on her knees.
After a few moments of confusion in the room however, when everyone around her settled, suddenly a deep sense of uneasiness burrowed into Barbara’s psyche. “What in the world are they getting ready to do?” Bab’s ruefully asked herself on swaying knees.
Raising her seething brow up to investigate what Jennifer’s charges were up to, Barbara coulnd’t help but wretch in horror when she grasped the project they had planned for her. Looking at the surreal gleam in the eyes of the sultry brown skinned girl that stood directly above her, an unfathomable and debilitating anxiety swept through Barbara’s withering body.
Completely losing touch with the presense of Jennifer and the male dancers that were fanning out behind her, Barbara’s wide, glaring eyes became glued on the young dancer above her as she gracefully rolled her long, tanned fingers into the velvety material of her gold colored dancing outfit.
While not gay herself, 19 year old Amelia Fuentez was strangely aroused by the spectral of debasing the rich and famous white woman that had rudely barged into the dressing room moments earlier. With her fingers tightly curled in the fabric of her tight miniskirt and panties, Amelia steadily peeled down the silky garment until her vulva became clearly apparent, right in front of Barbara’s stunned face. Taking a well timed and seductive step forward, Amelia rolled her hips suggestively as she lowered her skirt and panties all the way down her sinewy legs.
Beside Amelia, the other two female dancers lined up for their impending opportunity to follow suit, looking straight down at Barbara’s ashen face as the shine of their partner’s puckering pink cunt reflected in Bab’s glaring pupils.
Looking over the magnificently perverse sight that she had created with the simple snap of her fingers, Jennifer Lopez beamed like a proud mother as Barbara Streisand knelt willingly at the feet of the young, buxom dancers, forced to eat out each of the girls’ pussies for a chance to have the dressing room she had so richly and rudely demanded.
Feeling a tap on her shoulder, Jennifer heard her publicist whisper into her ear, reminding her of a couple of photo ops she had been scheduled to attend before the start of the show. When she turned to acknowledge him, Jennifer could clearly see the look of mortal shock etched across his face from the scene he was witnessing. Even though Barbara’s face was pointing in the other direction so that he had no clue who the half stripped woman on her knees really was, Jennifer still put her index finger up to her full lips and made a “SHHH’ gesture to keep him quiet.
As Jennifer turned to leave so she could fulfill her public relations commitment , she took one long look at the faces of her dancers spread out across the room, seeing that each and every one of them were game to milk this rare opportunity for all it was worth.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Jennifer smiled wryly as she waved goodbye for the moment.
Barbara’s eyes rolled dazedly in their sockets as she knelt there, the surrealistic sight of the young lithesome dancer’s exposed crotch filling Bab’s eyes as she swayed there at the girl’s feet.
When the brash and arrogant girl that had been the most vocally derisive sauntered even closer to Barbara’s face, the 58 year old diva instinctively turned her cheek to the side as Amelia advanced. Out of the corner of her eye however, Barbara still couldn’t help but steal a fleeting glance of what the teenage girl’s razor smooth snatch looked like as it damply expanded, no more than 4 inches from her cheek.
Amelia’s neon pink pussy lips seemed to bubble out from the mocha brown folds of her pussy as she hovered over top of Barbara, taking special joy in watching the rude and snobbish woman at her feet twitch with apprehension.
“I bet you thought we were gonna make you suck some of those boys’ cocks..huh..is that what you thought,” Amelia snippily barked down into Bab’s reddened, blushing face. ” We still might baby..if you’re good maybe we will ..but right now you got to take a little mouthful of what me and my girls are cookin’ up..I believe its girl’s night to EAT IN!”
When Barbara felt the girl above her slip her strong fingers into her scalp, proceeding to palm Bab’s head like a basketball, swiveling it back so that Barbara’s mouth was directly facing at her pussy, the older diva realized she was helpless at the aroused dancer’s feet.
“OHH…NNN,” Barbara tried to beg, but all she succeeded in doing was creating an opening with her mouth for Amelia to take advantage of.
Before she knew it, Bab’s found her whole face pushed into Amelia’s smoothly shaven snatch, and for several moments the only way Mrs. Streisand could breathe was through her ears. Feeling as if her head was becoming a pressure cooker, Bab’s twisted and fought until Amelia allowed her to surface momentarily for a breath of fresh oxygen before forcing Barbara’s suddenly slimy face back into her swampy depths.
Being a dancer on Jennifer Lopez’s traveling road show, Amelia had been party to a couple of really kinky moments. What was happening now, with a world renound female giant in the music industry bowing before her, on her knees, was totally off the charts however.
A tangible sense of power and control coursed through Amelia’s synapses as she smeared her pussy like a wet rag all over Barbara Streisand's ashen face.
Looking around the room, Amelia couldn’t help but notice how visibly aroused the male dancers had gotten from watching what was going on. A young and ambitious girl that craved the spotlight, Amelia decided to put on a real show for everyone involved.
Dropping her eyes back down to Barbara beneath her, Amelia was a little surprised by just how much her pussy was tingling as she glazed its greasy emissions across her cold lips. Not able to resist the power kick that came with forcing such an established celebrity down to her knees for such an indecent act, Amelia savored that golden moment, being one of thousands of girls in her position in the industry, just fighting to get her foot in the door.
Amelia could tell from Barbara’s awkward oral movements that the older woman wasn’t at all comfortable licking another woman’s privates. Raising her right leg majestically into the air, using all the flexibility that God had given her, Amelia held it up in a Rockette-like pose for several seconds as Barbara continued lapping at the young dancer’s dripping slit.
Finally bending her knee so that her right foot clamped around Barbara’s bare, freckled back, Amelia cinched her heel into Bab’s shoulder blade, effectively sandwiching the kneeling woman’s upper torso against her buzzing pubic area.
With adequate friction now built up, there seemed to be a vapor lock between the front of Barbara face and Amelia’s girlish cunt. Swirling her pelvis in slow, sensuous and melodical motions, Amelia seemed to be dancing along to a rhythmic song inside her head as she used Bab’s lipstick smeared lips and tongue to work herself to completion.
When Amelia’s orgasm finally tripped inside her head, the young Latin beauty dug her tingling fingers into Barbara Streisand’s scalp, holding the aging diva’s head tightly as her glistening pussy creamed all over the front of the kneeling star’s mouth, nose and chin.
Selfishly allowing concussion after post orgasmic concussion to ripple violently through her barely 100 pound frame, Amelia shot her mane of coal black hair backwards, luridly savoring the feel of Barbara’s tentative tongue darting back and forth against her nether regions.
Once Amelia was able to open her eyes again and focus her gaze on the other onlookers in the room, she could clearly see the astonished wonder etched across each and every face. It reminded her of the look everyone had a few weeks earlier when two of the bisexual men in the group had performed various sex acts with each other during a drunken game of Truth or Dare.
“So…who’s next up?” Amelia breathlessly offered, as she elegantly lifted her long right leg off Barbara’s back and returned it to the ground.
Santana, the young dancer and backup singer standing right beside Amelia, immediately chimed in. “Let’s just go down the line Girl,” She replied, meaning she would be next to get her pussy eaten to completion.
Grabbing Barbara firmly by the side of the head, Santana forced Bab’s sloppy face closer towards her and looked down at the hapless singer with disgusted amusement as she prepared to position her crotch over top of Barbara’s now buttery mouth.
“Get that pussy lickin’ mouth of yours open Bitch and use it for what God intended,” one of the men in the room yelled out when Santana eased her slinky frame over top of Bab’s uplifted face.
As Amelia strutted away from her still kneeling conquest, she became transfixed by one of the male dancers, Miguel, who was guiltily taking in the whole carnal scene.
The newest addition to the dance team, fresh out of the dance acadamy in Brooklyn, Miguel had a sheepish, innocent look splattered across his face as a freshly fulfilled Amelia sauntered over to him.
Nearing the teenage stud, Amelia foamed at the mouth as she watched the boy’s healthy erection strain the front of his trousers, which looked like they had a painfully large lead pip concealed inside.
As Amelia shimmied up to Miguel’s chest, she cast the breathless boy a matter of fact smile before dropping down to her knees, proceeding to satisfy her revved up lust on the stunned kid’s fully gorged endowment.
Santana was the only female dancer there that didn’t have her pussy completely shaven. Considering the fact that the outfits they generally wore necessitated a smoothly shaven pubic area, Santana still enjoyed keeping a closely cropped, Chaplinesque mustache-like patch of curly hair right above her clit.
Rolling her panties down to her ankles and anxiously stepping out of them, Santana proceeded to spread her powerfully toned thighs, creating a clear and unmistakable target for Barbara Streisand to aim her cum-covered face.
As soon as the bent over woman was close enough for Santana to get a firm grip of, she grabbed Barbara by the hair, imploring Ms. Streisand to begin servicing her.
“Give it a kiss Bitch…..come on tease it a little…make it think you like it..come on little lady..pucker that mouth open wide and plant a smooch right there on my wet slippery lips Baby, “Santana cooed viciously into Barbara’s stoic face.
“That’s right Honey…press those lips of yours against mine Slut…roll that tongue around it and taste it all ..YEAHHHHH..let that shit drip all the way down your throat Wench,” Santana whispered harshly, relishing the feeling of Barbara complying with her lurid and ghastly orders.
Jennifer Lopez worked through her press junket with dizzying speed, her mind completely occupied by what was transpiring back in her dressing room. Jennifer couldn’t help but giggle a little when she overheard several reporters and other Grammy organizers wonder out loud where Barbara Streisand had disappeared to.
“You wouldn’t believe it if I told you,” Jennifer hummed coyly to herself. “But trust me..you’d have the scoop of the century if I did.”
Briskly leaving her final photo-op, Jennifer forcefully pressed her bodyguards forward, imploring them to clear her way so she could get back to the privacy of her room.
Getting her hulking protectors to block the view inside the room when they opened the door, Jennifer slipped her juicy body between the small crack in the doorway and disappeared inside.
What she saw after she closed the door behind her, made very inch of her smooth, flawless skin tingle with perverse excitement.
The first thing Jennifer was able to see, after her eyes re-focused in the dim light, was Barbara Streisand’s lily white back as she continued her kneeling posture on the floor in front of Jennifer’s female dancers.
Watching with outward laughter, Jennifer saw that Barbara’s head was now tightly cinched in Santana’s Amazon-like grip, the nubile young dancer forcing the older woman’s face against her bubbling quim with lascivious intent.
Santana has scooted her round, bare ass up on top the makeup table and had her knees flexed apart as far as she could, giving Barbara unhindered access to facefuck the young beauty with everything she had.
Sneaking a peek to her right, Jennifer could see the first girl that Barbara had serviced, Amelia, was now on her own knees, giving a blow job to one of the male dancers that had obviously become aroused by the blissfully carnal sight in the center of the room. From the size of the shaft Amelia was hungrily forcing down her throat, Jennifer understood why all the girls were so smitten with Miguel, the newest addition to the group.
Taking three steps forward, so that she was about five feet behind Barbara’s back, Jennifer felt the noticeable signs of her own arousal start to peak. She could feel her vagina begin to lather and her firm tits heave up and down on her chest as the thought of going out and grabbing one of the reporters passing by, out in the hall, crossed her mind again.
“Imagine the cover of the Enquirer next week,” the Latin beauty thought jovially.
The two male dancers that were standing around, just watching, casually eased up to each side of Jennifer to take in the lurid scene with their boss. All three looked down disbelievingly at Barbara in front of them and the way she had her face wedged up between Santana’s crotch.
“You can’t even see her face its in there it’s so tight,” one of the male dancers sighed.
“Yeah…she’s gonna need a squeegee if she ever wants to clean of that plastic surgery made mug of hers when she’s done,” the other guy replied, bringing a smile to everyone within ear shots face.
“It don’t look like her face is the only thing that’s getting soiled guys…look,” Jennifer commented, pointing her long index finger at the underside of Barbara Streisand’s panties. “Look at that wet spot down there just keeps growin’ and growin’.”
Focusing closer, all three could clearly see the fury presense of Barbara’s pubic hair through the drenched spot on the bottom of her underwear.
“Either the Bitch peed herself or she’s really diggin’ it,” one of the male dancers added as he nervously bit his knuckles.
Looking back up at Santana on top of the cluttered vanity table, Jennifer beamed proudly, admiring the lithesome flexibility of her backup singer and dancer. Seeing the graceful way Santana’s legs flailed out, bracketing Bab’s smothered face, when the young girl’s head shot backwards and her luxurious mane of midnight black hair draped seductively across the front of the mirror supporting her weight, it was clearly evident to everyone in the room, Santana was on the verge of a crushing completion as well.
Watching the savage way the young dancer gripped each side Barbara’s head, closing her palms tightly around the long time star’s ears, goosebumps popped up all over Jennifer’s golden brown skin, mesmerized by the sight of Santana completely losing control.
From behind, Jennifer could also clearly see Barbara’s kneeling rear end buck up and down helplessly with each forceful tug Santana made with her spasming hands, her entire youthful and vibrant body writhing from her splintering orgasm.
Admiring the crude and cocksure way Santana smeared Barbara’s entire face through her greasy critch several more times before shoving the older singer’s head away, it was clear to everyone there that the young girl had used Barbara for everything she needed from her and was now finished with the choked up singer.
Exhausted and needing a dose of fresh air, when Barbara’s face was finally freed from the depths of Santana’s cunt, she tilted her face upwards towards the ceiling to desperately huff in several doses of clean oxygen.
As Bab’s knelt there, half naked and gasping for air, the residue covering her face caused everyone else in the room to take pause. Seeing the murky stew of vaginal secretions, traces of Santana’s pubic hair, smeared makeup, lipstick and eye liner that coated Bab’s previously elegant face, from forehead to chin, prompted everyone to voyueristically fixate for a few moments as Barbara clumsily tried regaining her bearings.
“She think’s its over,” One of the male dancers whispered as he lewdly tapped the throbbing cock in his pants.
“Not by a long shot,” Jennifer heard the other guy beside her reply, watching as he playfully aimed his right foot out and let the wet spot leaking out from Barbara’s panties grease the tip of his shoe.
When the two male dancers and Jennifer saw the way the third female in line, Luci, was anxiously working her skirt and panties down to her feet and purposefully stepping out of them, it was clear Barbara’s Streisand’s price to earn the dressing room wasn’t even close to being paid. Feeling her insides buzz and swoon like a witches cauldron, Jennifer couldn’t imagine what else her dancers had in mind for the legendary ice princess….
Part Two ….coming soon
Topic: Bab’s Backstage ClusterFuck (Barbra Streisand, Jennifer Lopez) (Read 23861 times)