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Author Topic: Taylor's Southern Soirée (Taylor Swift, Carrie Underwood and co.)  (Read 1790 times)

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The following is a sequel to my piece A Party Like No Other, but is a stand alone story and can be enjoyed without reading that one first.  Hope you like it!

Taylor's Southern Soirée

Chapter 1

Starring: Taylor Swift, Selena Gomez, Hailee Steinfeld, Miley Cyrus, Elle Fanning and Chloe Moretz

Nearly three months had passed since the fated all-star orgy in the backyard of Taylor Swift’s luxury Hollywood home; the famous celebrity sex party that had caused such a buzz across the globe.  Over the following seven days, a diligent band of Internet censors had been working around the clock to take down the hundreds upon hundreds of X-rated images being uploaded to various blogs and social media platforms by the hour.  Highly pixelated snaps were shown on TV news shows the world over, while smartly dressed anchors reported on the story in every native language known to mankind.

Put simply, Taylor Swift’s A-list orgy was the biggest news story since 9/11 and people from all four corners of the globe waited with bated breath to see if a similar carnal fuckfest was to take place the following week.  And sure enough, it did. From noon ‘til night, the blogs and Internet forums were awash with high-res images and live streaming video of the second celebrity sexfest as it took place in Taylor’s infamous yard.

Before long, Taylor’s weekly orgies had become a part of everyday life and people would be glued to their computer screens every Saturday afternoon as though tuning in for their favourite TV show.  Such were the worldwide notoriety of her all-star sex parties, that Taylor’s successful music career soon became little more than a footnote in her new-found legacy as an amateur porn starlet and it wasn’t long before the blonde-haired singer was inundated with all kinds of offers and invites off the back of her illustrious orgies. 

Most were from hopeful studs offering up their services for her future shindigs, but Taylor’s catalogue of invitations stemmed from all manner of different sources.  There were approaches for movie roles, invites to pose nude for Playboy and seven figure offers from Brazzers for her first professional shoot, not to mention invitations from famous people across the United States, offering up the vast space of their plush green backyards for her next A-list orgy.  While trawling through her emails one day, Taylor happened upon one such offer that stood out from the rest. It was from her old friend Carrie Underwood. The country music star stated that she was a longtime follower of Taylor’s online shenanigans and asked if she’d considered flying out to Nashville for her next sexy soiree.

Taylor was intrigued.  Since moving to Los Angeles, Taylor had returned to Nashville for little more than the occasional awards show or the southern leg of a nationwide tour, and the fair-haired popstar declared that it would be great to see (and perhaps sit on) some of the old Tennessee faces once again.  As such, the two singers exchanged emails for a number of weeks and when the date was finally decided upon, Taylor booked the penthouse suite at the swankiest, most expensive Nashville hotel she could find and texted her girls; seeing who fancied a trip to the Deep South.

A shiny stretch limo pulled into the large hangar at a private Los Angeles airstrip.  A door opened and a succession of designer stiletto heels and expensive high-top sneakers planted themselves one by one on the smooth tarmac as Taylor Swift and her A-list chums exited the long black vehicle.  Miss Swift’s luxurious private jet sat juiced up and ready to go on the vast open runway.

The pilot and co-pilot were stood atop the pristine white stairwell as they prepared to greet their morning passengers.  The pilot was in his early 40’s, his co-pilot about five years younger. They wore neatly pressed navy blue suits with matching peaked hats, and were incredibly handsome; both men sporting the piercing eyes, pearly white teeth, immaculately trimmed stubble and chiseled jawlines of a pair of Calvin Klein models.

Taylor Swift and her friends crossed the lengthy runway toward the private plane, wheeling behind them large Louis Vuitton and Dolce and Gabbana suit cases as they went.  Taylor marched out in front; the popstar dressed to kill in a set of denim short shorts, a cropped white vest top and a spindly set of Gucci stilettos. The outfit was nearly indecently skimpy; the frayed hems of her jean shorts struggling to cover the beach bronzed spheres of her peachy round butt, while her stiff pink nipples threatened to burst clean through the thin white fabric of her tight-fitting vest top.

Her golden hair bounced majestically as she walked; the thick, shiny locks washed and re-washed with all kinds of expensive shampoos and conditioners before being styled meticulously with the singers impressive arsenal of hairdryers, flatirons and curling tongs.  What’s more, the fair-haired songstress was dolled to the nines; her pretty face heavily made up with nothing but the finest beauty products on the market. All manner of costly powders, foundations and eye shadows had been dabbed across her freshly cleansed skin.  Shiny pink gloss gave her full, puckered lips an alluring shine, while dark mascara teased out her carefully curled eyelashes to a length that Jessica Rabbit would be proud of.

Following behind Taylor were her gang of celebrity pals; Selena Gomez, Hailee Steinfeld, Miley Cyrus, Elle Fanning and Chloe Moretz- each more heavily dolled up and scantily clad than the last.  In fact, the girls seemed to be in direct competition as to who could showcase the most skin; the private airstrip a rolling plain of snug-fitting tops, belt-thin micro mini-skirts, sunkissed flesh, toned arms and ab-lined midsections.  Not to mention bright blue eyes, shiny white teeth, bee-swollen lips, bleach blonde hair dye, jet black mascara, glistening pink lip gloss, designer sunglasses and expensive jewelry.

“Good morning, ladies,” said the pilot, smiling warmly at Taylor and her friends as they neared the luxury jet.

“Hi, boys,” Taylor grinned back coquettishly as she started up the gleaming white stairwell.  “Lovely day for a fly, wouldn’t you say?” she added, slurping suggestively from her iced Irish coffee.

“Absolutely, Miss Swift,” replied the co-pilot, gulping loudly as Taylor brushed his handsome face with a neatly manicured hand, flashing him a cheeky wink as she passed. 

Taylor’s friends followed up behind her, each greeting the two lucky men in a similarly flirtatious manner; stroking their faces or running a hand down their muscular torsos.  Some even turned around and rubbed their barely-covered ass cheeks teasingly against the crotches of their skinny-fit suit pants; the resulting rush of blood to the loins leaving neither man fit to pilot a tandem bicycle, much less an aircraft.  Nevertheless, the flight went ahead as scheduled and the girls funnelled into the private jet, taking to their seats as the pilot prepared for take off.

The plane gave new meaning to the word luxury.  The interior decor was so opulent and grand it would’ve put most American homes to shame and there wasn’t a cheap plastic or coarse fabric anywhere to be seen.  The tables were crafted from exquisite English oak and glazed with the finest lacquers known to man. The chairs were made from plush cream leather, adorned with scatter cushions hand sewn from the smoothest Chinese silk, and had enough leg room to seat an NBA center. 

As the jet took to the air, the ladies finished the last of their alcoholic coffees and waited patiently for the next course.  Next on the liquid menu, it turned out, were Bloody Marys and no sooner had the private plane levelled out in the cloudy sky, were the strong red drinks served up by a pair of pretty air hostesses; both dressed in precious little, at Taylor’s behest. 

But alcohol and scantily clad stewardesses weren’t the only benefits of travelling on a private jet.  As a matter of fact, the advantages of flying private over commercial (even the first class to which the ladies were accustomed) were inumerable.  No waiting in line to check in, no irritating kids pestering them for autographs and, most importantly, no airport security. As the girls knew all too well, LAX was stocked to the brim with overweight security guards; each one more than willing to risk a sacking and sexual assault charge in order to give the A-list beauties a thorough and vastly inappropriate pat down at the gates.  And by flying privately, they were bypassing the lot of them.

But, most of all, it meant drugs.  Lots and lots of drugs, and the girls had barely left California airspace before they were handing big blue bongs and tightly-rolled joints back and forth like Christmas gifts; hotboxing the plane’s interior like a high school senior’s Ford Focus.  And it didn’t stop there. In fact, that was just the beginning. Before long, the ladies were popping Molly, Oxy, and a host of other colourful pills like they were Skittles; swallowing them down with mouthfuls of JD and Coke and swigs from tall mojitos.  Not to mention passing around a Matterhorn of cocaine and hoovering up lines like state of the art vacuum cleaners.

After 30 solid minutes of large scale narcotics consumption, the girls had worked up considerable appetites and, as the jet soared over New Mexico, lunch was served.  However, the in-flight meal bore little resemblance to the average airline fare, and there wasn’t a dry ham sandwich, tiny bag of peanuts of vodka miniature in sight. No- the ladies were dining on nothing but the best.  Freshly caught lobster, sauteed portobello mushrooms, roasted eggplant and goat cheese stuffed tomatoes were just some of the highlights of their luxurious gourmet meal. Followed by a freshly baked Tiramisu worthy of a Michelin-starred Roman eatery and all washed down with bottles of vintage champagne.

And still the liquor continued to flow.  Next up was the wine course and the air hostesses brought out six glass tumblers accompanied by a selection of the finest Chiantis and Pinot Grigios west of Tuscany.  The ladies sipped the fine wine, passing around joints as they chatted amongst themselves. They discussed a wide range of different topics; music, movies, hair, grooming, makeup, clothes, dieting, working out, food, drink, drugs, friends, sex.  Mostly sex, and after numerous bottles and countless marijuana cigarettes, somebody suggested a game of Truth or Dare. The girls nursed glasses filled near to the brim with expensive Italian wine, passing around a mountain of cocaine atop a small mirror as the game got underway.

“Right, Selena,” began Taylor Swift, taking a swig of her vintage Chianti, “truth or dare?”

“Hmm,” pondered Selena Gomez, racking up portions of coke with her platinum credit card, “truth.”

“OK,” said the blonde.  “What’s the most cocks you’ve sucked in one day?”

“Ermmm,” thought the Latina, pausing to snort a line through a rolled up $50, “not sure.  How many guys were at your last party?” she asked.

“15,” Taylor replied.

“OK, then that many,” Selena declared, rubbing her cute little nose as several lines of Ecuador’s finest shot to her brain.

“Wow, 15!” exclaimed Hailee Steinfeld.  “Selena, you little slut!”

The girls laughed. 

“Oh, come on, bitch,” Selena replied, handing the mound of coke onto her brunette friend, “it’s not like you didn’t suck them too!”

More laughter.

“Your turn to ask someone, Selena,” Taylor prompted.

“OK, Hailee,” Selena began.  “Truth or dare?”


Selena grineed.  “How far can you squirt?”

Hailee blushed, taking a sip of her wine.  “My record is ten feet.”

The ladies whooped and applauded. 

“Damn, girl!” Taylor declared.  “You should be in The Guiness Book of Records with a trajectory like that!”

The girls laughed raucously, cooing and awwing at their friend’s impressive revelation.  Then it was Hailee’s turn to ask.

“Chloe,” she said, “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” replied Chloe Moretz.

“What’s the most cocks you’ve handled at once?” Hailee asked.

“Five,” smirked the blonde.  “One in my mouth, one in my pussy, one in my ass,” she recalled, pointing helpfully at each of her orifices as she explained, “and one in each hand,” she added, mimicking the vigorous jerking of two imaginary penises.  More cheers and applause.

“Yeah, I saw that,” Taylor chimed in.  “It was pretty hot!”

And so the game continued.  A stewardess brought out a bottle of ouzo and the girls took shots between glasses of wine, passing around weed and cocaine like Miami drug barons as they asked one another a whole host of sex-related questions.  How many times a day do you masturbate?  What’s the longest cock you’ve deepthroated?  How many dildos do you own? How many times can you squirt in ten minutes?

Before long, Miley Cyrus grew tired of the X-rated mass interview and when Elle Fanning posed her the question ‘truth or dare’, the blonde singer replied ‘dare’.  The ladies cheered. They’d been waiting the better part of half an hour for someone to take on a dare, and Elle thought long and hard about what that challenge was going to be.

“I dare you,” she began, pausing to down a shot of ouzo, “to suck the co-pilot’s dick!”

End of Chapter 1
« Last Edit: March 22, 2019, 09:57:43 AM by DarkSwordsman »
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Re: Taylor's Southern Soirée (Taylor Swift, Carrie Underwood and co.)
« Reply #1 on: March 07, 2019, 01:03:27 PM »
Good stuff. You have a great narrative style, looking forward to reading more from you.
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Re: Taylor's Southern Soirée (Taylor Swift, Carrie Underwood and co.)
« Reply #2 on: March 12, 2019, 07:04:19 AM »
Chapter 2

Starring: Taylor Swift, Selena Gomez, Hailee Steinfeld, Miley Cyrus, Elle Fanning and Chloe Moretz

Taylor Swift’s private jet flew over eastern Texas at an altitude of 35,000 feet; the luxury aircraft soaring through the clouds at a rate of 500 knots.  Inside, Taylor and her celebrity pals manned the plush leather seating; grazing a buffet of seafood hors d'oeuvres and passing around joints as they nursed freshly mixed Pornstar Martinis and Tequila Manhattans. 

Ryan, the plane’s co-pilot, was stood before Miley Cyrus; the older man’s deep brown eyes nearly bulging clean out of their sockets as he looked down at the randy popstar, her soft, dainty hands pawing at the crotch of his suit pants.  Miley was kitted out in a scanty hip hop-style outfit; the southern songstress looking as though she’d just stepped off the set of one of her music videos.

She wore a figure-hugging Chicago Bulls jersey; the tight-fitting top cropped just below the chest, showcasing her beach tanned midriff in all its flat, ab-lined glory.  On her bottom half she wore a denim mini-skirt; the scanty garment barely extending past the round, shapely orbs of her sunkissed apple bottom, her long, smoothly waxed legs travelling all the way down to a pair of expensive looking red and black Nike hightops.

A matching Bulls snapback was pulled backward over her exquisitely styled, carefully slicked back, bottle blonde hairdo, while all manner of golden trinkets graced every extremity and appendage of her hot young body.  Shiny 24-carat rings adorned her lengthy nailed fingers. Diamond necklaces, thick bracelets, designer bangles and gold plated watches hung around her neck and ringed her dainty wrists, while all kinds of golden studs, hoops and barbels gleamed in her navel and tongue, and dangled from her earlobes.   

Ryan could scarcely believe the sheer amount of flesh on display.  He’d seen strippers who’d shown less skin, and as his eyes feasted on every stretch of silky smooth, beach bronzed flesh, he felt his dick grow and swell in his pants; the lengthy member testing the sheer fabric to its limits.  And his crotchal growth didn’t go unnoticed for long. Miley’s vibrant red lips formed a perfect O-shape of wonderment as she spotted the thick lump forming in his pants; the blonde beauty stroking the outline of his cock through the thin material.

“Wow!” she exclaimed.  “Taylor, your co-pilot’s got a big dick!”

“Yeah, no duh, bitch,” Taylor replied, taking a swig of her martini.  “Why do you think I hired him?”

The girls laughed.  It was true that Ryan’s size had ultimately landed him the job of Taylor’s trusted co-pilot; the fair-haired songstress valuing endowment over little things like experience and certification throughout the hiring process.  Miley unbuckled Ryan’s belt and was unzipping his fly when suddenly she paused; looking up at the older man as she addressed him in her trademark husky voice.

“It’s OK for you to be back here, right?” she asked.  “The plane’s not gonna, like, crash or anything?”

“N-no, I think we’ll be alright, Miss Cyrus,” he replied.

Ryan trusted the abilities of his colleague and knew he was perfectly capable of manning the aircraft solo.  But even if he hadn’t been, the trembling co-pilot was in no position to drag himself away from the pretty young popstar.  In fact, the jet could have been in a 600 mph nosedive, headed straight for downtown Dallas and he still would’ve struggled to prize himself from the draw of her plump, inviting lips and hot, athletic body.   

“OK,” Miley smirked, quickly picking up from where she left off.

She unzipped Ryan’s fly and whipped down his pants and boxer briefs in one swift motion; his cock springing out like a Jack-in-the-box as both garments pooled around his freshly polished brogues.

“Oh my,” Miley cooed at first sight of the co-pilot’s dick.

It was simply huge; eight inches long with girth to match.  A big set of balls hung at the base; the giant pair already bulging and inflating with a copious load of thick, creamy spunk brewing inside.  A complex network of veins and capillaries run up and down the length of his shaft; criss crossing along the way like train tracks, while the head was swollen up the size of a ping pong ball; a rock pool of diluted precum glistening in the wide open tip.  Miley licked her lips in anticipation of the thick, girthy wand; reaching up and gripping it at the base as she gazed up longingly at the handsome stud looming above her.
“Now this is what I call a dare,” she grinned, shooting out her slick red tongue to lap at the seeping tip.

“Oh, Jesus,” Ryan sighed, the mere tip of the singer’s skilled, wet tongue enough to send shivers up his spine as it flicked at his dripping slit.

“Mmm,” Miley groaned, the randy blonde delighting in the taste of the older man’s prespunk as it oozed from his dickslit and across her tongue like sap from a conifer. 

She stroked the shaft, wrapping her lips around the swollen pink head and guiding them back and forth, feeling his crown twitch and throb as she did so.  Miley bobbed her pretty head; her thick, pouty lips venturing past his helmet and down to the top of his shaft, a soft, velvety hand travelling up and down his dick, while the other reached down to fondle his balls.

Ryan stood still like a statue; rooted to the spot as the horny songstress worked him over like a seasoned pro.  Her lips roamed up and down his shaft as she blew him; her drooling mouth generating more suction than a top of the range Dyson.  He moaned and groaned; the hunky co-pilot cooing like a wounded animal as he was sucked nigh on into a coma by the skilled young blonde.

By this stage, Miley was taking nearly all eight of Ryan’s fat, girthy inches between her lips.  A hand kneaded and caressed his oversized balls, while the other rested on his thigh; her long red nails digging into the muscular appendages as she worked him over with her mouth.  Ryan was in seventh heaven. He could hardly comprehend the sheer wealth of tricks Miley’s talented mouth was capable of, and as she sucked down inch after inch of his big, lengthy prick. 

Indeed, the naughty popstar reeled of every technique in the blowjob handbook over the duration of her world class suckjob; performing each and every one with the skill and expertise of an experienced pornstar.  She lapped at the veiny underside of his dick, encircled his bulging head with her tongue and lapped at his open prickslit; coaxing yet more watery precum out from the urethra.

Miley’s girlfriends watched on from the sidelines snorting up lines of coke and knocking back pills with shots of black sambuca; whooping and hollering encouragement like fans at a sports game.  By now, Miley had her hands on Ryan’s hips, her mouth travelling up and down the length of his shaft at an impressive rate of knots; her pretty head little more than a blur of red, black and bottle blonde as she bobbed and dipped on his big, chubby cock.

All manner of sucking and slurping, choking and gagging noises escaped her busy mouth; the lusty singer going at Ryan’s dong like a woman possessed.  Her lips went up and down his dick like a glass elevator; the thick red pair edging ever nearer to the hilt with every pass she took until, finally, it disappeared.  Miley’s plump, bee-stung lips wrapped snugly around the base of his dick; the red closure of her Chicago Bulls hat pressing against his abs, while her cute little nose nestled amongst his neatly trimmed bush of pubes.

“Oh, shit,” Ryan groaned, all eight of his thick, girthy inches lodged firmly between Miley’s lips; the horny young blonde drooling and slobbering over his dick like a wild dog as she held it in her mouth.

Finally, and with much reluctance on her part, Miley came up for air; retrieving the fat, lengthy penis from the recesses of her throat and spitting a thick jet of saliva across the already spit-slathered shaft.  But she wasn’t done yet, not by a long shot, and the randy popstar angled Ryan’s dick upwards; jerking the oversized dong wildly, as she dipped down to get at his balls.

Miley fed one of his nuts into her mouth; sucking on the large, cum-filled orb like a flesh gobstopper, glazing it in slick, wet spittle before moving onto the next.  Then, she returned to the cock; the blonde beauty licking up the veiny underside, kneading the spit-slicked head with a dextrous hand as she went. She fed the dick back between her lips; feeling the lengthy member twitch in her mouth and hands as she stroked and sucked him in equal measure. 

Ryan tilted his head back; the co-pilot’s usually handsome face contorting in all manner of unsightly ways as he fought to retain the gooey spunkwad brewing and churning in his oversized balls.  Indeed, the older man had been clinging onto his load for dear life amid a vicious assault from Miley’s skilled young mouth, and as the horny singer jerked his spit-shined shaft and sucked at the head like a child with a popsicle, he knew it was only a matter of moments before blew his beans.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” Ryan cooed in warning, his voice strained and breathy like he’d just run a marathon.

The words were music to Miley’s ears and she released the cock from the vice-like grip of her smooth, lotioned hands; parting her lips as she looked up at him, in wait of his creamy load.

“Mmm, yeah!  Come on, big boy,” she purred with excitement, “gimme that cum!”

Ryan jerked himself off; the rugged co-pilot violently beating his throbbing meat as he looked down at the popslut beneath him; licking her pouty red lips in anticipation of his load.  Miley reached up to fondle his balls; feeling the thick, gloopy spermwad brewing in his balls as he stroked his pulsing dong. She tongued at his dickhole; greedily lapping up the stream of prespunk as it flowed from the open tip like the Missouri River. 

“Oh, fuck!” Ryan groaned; the older man trembling from head to toe, his dick throbbing in his hands like an athlete’s ticker as he prepared to shoot his goo.  “Here it comes!”

Miley barely had time to brace herself as a thick torrent of spunk shot out from the hole in his dick; the big, sloppy load splattering across her open mouth and up her cheek like off-white wall paint. 

“Oh, wow!” she exclaimed, unprepared from the sheer ferocity of the co-pilot’s ejaculate and she savoured the rich flavour on her skilled red tongue before swallowing it down.

Then, Miley used a finger to scoop up the trail of cum from her chin and cheek; feeding the lengthy nailed digit between her lips and sucking it clean.

“Mmm,” she murmured, grinning up at Ryan as she enjoyed the taste of his seed, “yummy!”

The ladies cheered and whistled from the surrounding seats; heaping praised upon their accomplished friend as she clean the gooey jism from her fingers.  Ryan stood before her; carefully palming his tingling cock; the handsome older man still overcome from the intensity of the first class BJ.

“Wow, well done, Miley,” gushed Taylor Swift, as she took a shot of sambuca.  “You made that dick go off like a rocket!”

The girls laughed.

“Thanks, girls,” Miley grinned.  “That was fun! Now,” she added, as Taylor passed her a freshly rolled joint, “where were we? Oh yeah! Chloe, truth or dare?”

End of Chapter 2
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Re: Taylor's Southern Soirée (Taylor Swift, Carrie Underwood and co.)
« Reply #3 on: March 12, 2019, 07:07:00 AM »
Chapter 3

Starring: Taylor Swift, Selena Gomez, Hailee Steinfeld, Miley Cyrus, Elle Fanning and Chloe Moretz

“Chloe, truth or dare?”

Chloe Moretz took a shot of sambuca before responding.  “Dare.”

“OK. I dare you,” began Miley Cyrus, taking a hit on a long, thick joint and blowing a dense cloud of smoke into the air, “to make out with one of the flight attendants.”

Loud hoots and cheers went up from the surrounding women.  Chloe blushed; pouring another shot to compose herself.

“Which one?” she asked.

“Take your pick,” Miley grinned, popping a yellow pill into her mouth.

The stewardesses, mixing cocktails at the bar, turned toward the young actress expectantly as they awaited her decision.  Chloe looked the two girls up and down. They were nothing short of stunning, straight tens by anyone’s assessment; both women boasting looks so elegant and flawless they could give most catwalk models a run for their money.   One was blonde, the other brunette; their shiny, neatly styled hair pinned up underneath matching light blue hats.

Their uniforms, such as they were, left precious nothing to the imagination; the pretty flight attendants showcasing just as much beach bronzed flesh and alluring curvature as their passengers.  They wore form fitting sky blue blazers, unbuttoned past the chest; offering tantalizing glimpses of their delightfully full cleavages, and matching skirts; the garments cropped so high that they barely extended south of the crotch and so tight that they clung to their juicy round butts like needy children.

“Hmm, I pick…” Chloe pondered, “both.”

A deafening, high pitched whoop sounded out across the luxury jet.  Chloe eyed the two women hungrily, beckoning them over with her manicured index fingers and a playful bite of her lower lip that no hot-blooded human, male or female, could possibly resist.  The girls approached, cocktails in hand; smiling back at the fair-haired starlet as they went.

“Miss Moretz,” they said in unison; offering Chloe the two freshly mixed drinks; a Manhattan and a Margarita.

“Why thank you, ladies,” she grinned, downing the drinks one by one, then patting her beach tanned thighs; gesturing for the two women to sit.

The girls took a seat on Chloe’s thighs like they were giving her a lapdance, each throwing an arm over her fitness model shoulder blades as they did so. 

“Hmm, who first?” Chloe mused, looking back from blonde to brunette like she was picking ice cream flavours.  “You,” she decided, turning to the blonde and puckering her glossy pink lips invitingly as she leaned in for a kiss.

The girls locked lips passionately, Chloe running a hand down the flight attendant's smooth, sculpted back as they made out; exchanging tongues like birthday presents.  Then, Chloe turned to the brunette, kissing her with equal zeal and gusto; their soft wet tongues dueling like medieval knights.

“Now you two,” Chloe grinned, licking her bee-stung lips as she and the brunette broke from their kiss.   

The stewardesses looked across at one another, blushing like schoolgirls as they met for a kiss.  Chloe watched for a moment before joining in; a trio of soft, pouty lips pressing together in a threeway smooch so alluring it would leave even the most God-fearing of Catholic monks begging for mercy.  Then, after what felt like an eternity, the girls seperated; smiling and blushing across the private jet in equal measure, their spectators sat stunned and slack jawed before them.

“Damn, Chloe!” gasped Selena Gomez, the randy Latina sat legs akimbo, teasing her stiffened clit through the frilly white crotch of her scanty French knickers.  “That was friggin’ hot!”

“Oh, I know,” the blonde replied, kissing the two flight attendants on the cheek one by one before they hopped down from her sunkissed thighs.  “Thank you, ladies,” she smirked, giving each one a playful pat on the butt as they returned to the bar. “OK, Taylor,” she added, “truth or dare?”

And so the game progressed.  Taylor Swift and her A-list pals dished out dares like preteens at a sleepover.  They removed clothing, did bumps of coke off one another’s anatomies, swapped Mollies back and forth from tongue to tongue, gave each other lap dances and made out with fellow celebs and lucky stewardesses alike- the game quickly descending into an all-girl, scantily clad smoochfest; so hot and beguiling it would have even the most devout of homosexuals spewing in their shorts.     

And as the game went on, the booze continued to flow.  In fact, by the time the luxury jet had cruised into Arkansas airspace, the ladies had sunk enough cocktails to make Ernest Hemingway blush.  Cosmopolitans, Mai Tais, Whiskey Sours, Mint Juleps, Sazeracs, Sidecars, Daiquiris; they drank them all and many more to boot. In fact, by the time the plane soared over the city of Fayetteville, the girls had downed enough liquor to put most lifelong alcoholics out of commission.  Not to mention hoovering up a ski slope of cocaine, dishing out more pills than a retirement home and smoking more weed than the populations of Compton and Inglewood combined.

After an hour of watching her friends kiss, strip and suck dick like seasoned pornstars, Taylor Swift was getting horny beyond words.  In fact, the fair-haired singer was burning in her nether regions like a forest fire; her piping hot pussy seeping enough fluid to water half of Ethiopia in the process.  And as Hailee Steinfeld was allocated the next dare, Taylor peeled off her denim shorts and skimpy white panties in one; spreading her legs like a Times Square hooker as she gazed across the jet at the brown-haired beauty.

“I’ve got a dare for you, honey,” Taylor announced, parting her vaginal lips like the Red Sea, offering everyone in eyeshot a spectacular view of her glistening pink insides as she did so.  “Come over here and give this a lick!”

End of Chapter 3
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Re: Taylor's Southern Soirée (Taylor Swift, Carrie Underwood and co.)
« Reply #4 on: March 12, 2019, 07:10:30 AM »
Chapter 4

Starring: Taylor Swift, Selena Gomez, Hailee Steinfeld, Miley Cyrus, Elle Fanning and Chloe Moretz

Taylor Swift’s comfy leather seat was titled back like a single bed; the fair-haired songstress wearing little more than her designer stiletto heels as she lay back atop the plush leather chair.  Between her legs knelt Hailee Steinfeld; her arms wrapped tightly around the popstar’s thighs, the brunette beauty lapping at her stiffened clit like a big cat from a river.

Taylor’s eyes were shut, her thick, pouty lips agape; all manner of soft, feminine moans and breathy, impassioned coos escaping her pretty mouth as she was eaten into ecstasy by her skilled young friend.  Taylor’s right hand was rested on her perky chest; the horny singer caressing one of her breasts and teasing her puffy pink nipples. The other was placed at the back of Hailee’s head; the actress’ silky chestnut locks flowing through the gaps in her fingers as she tongued at her dripping pussy.

Hailee’s long brown hair shook back and forth as she busied herself between her girlfriend’s thighs.  To say that Hailee was enjoying Taylor’s vagina would be something of an understatement. In fact, the young brunette was munching on her girlfriend’s hot pink twat like she hadn’t eaten in days; all kinds of muffled groans and greedy scoffing noises emanating from Taylor’s crotch as she feasted on her sodden gash.     

Miss Swift’s celebrity girlfriends manned the surrounding seats; sipping from cocktails, knocking back shots and passing around joints as they watched the live lesbian lickfest unfold.  Some reached up to fondle their bare breasts, while others slipped lengthy nailed fingers under the hems of her scanty underwear; the sapphic sex show getting everyone in eyeshot hotter than noon in the Sahara.

For Selena Gomez, the oral exhibition was all a little too much.  Indeed, the lusty Latina had been frigging herself stupid under the frilly hem of her French knickers for the better part of 15 minutes and was one step away from feeding an empty wine bottle up her cooze by the time she rose from her leather seat.

Selena stood beside Taylor and leant over; kissing her fair-haired friend passionately on the mouth and she wasn’t the only one getting up to join the action.  In fact, within a matter of minutes all four of the horny spectators had shed their remaining clothing; rising from their comfy seats as they waded into the fray. 

Chloe Moretz was squatted opposite; the randy blonde sucking on one of Taylor’s perky young tits.  Miley Cyrus positioned herself behind Hailee; burrowing between her ass cheeks like an ostrich in the sand as she tongued at her sopping wet twat.  Elle Fanning crossed the jet to where the two flight attendants were mixing drinks at the bar; slinking in between the pretty pair and making out with them one by one.

Before long, the game of Truth or Dare had become something of a free for all and, as the private plane flew over the border into Tennessee, the scene had descended into little more than a rampant all-star orgy; like so many that had been broadcast over the Internet in the prior weeks. 

Selena Gomez was sat on Taylor Swift’s face; the Latina fondling her girlfriend’s tits while Hailee Steinfeld licked her sodden gash.  Across the way, Miley Cyrus and Chloe Moretz were locked in a 69; fingers probing tight pink buttholes and strumming throbbing clits as they lapped at one another like thirsty kittens.  Elsewhere, one of the flight attendants had climbed up onto the surface of the bar. Her friend knelt beside her, kissing her ardently, while Elle Fanning squatted between her thighs; the randy starlet scoffing at her dripping snatch like it was her last meal.       

A chorus of moans and groans carried throughout the expanse of the private jet.  Orgasms were igniting across the luxury plane like sticks of dynamite; the randy A-listers licking, fingering and tribbing one another to a seemingly never ending series of climaxes, each more wild and earth-shattering than the last.  Bodies were interlocked, interwoven and intertwined; the scene quickly resembling a nude game of Twister as the ladies ground and bucked their hot young frames together like rutting beasts.

Selena and Miley were scissoring violently, their sopping wet vaginas slip-sliding against each other like black ice; the randy duo tribbing one another to countless toe-curling orgasms.  Meanwhile, Elle was perched on Selena’s face like a resting bird.  The Latina tongued at the lusty blonde like a seasoned pro, dishing out orgasm after orgasm, in spite of the near constant stream of intense pleasure tearing through her slender frame like an earthquake.  Taylor was fingerbanging a lucky flight attendent; the randy stewardess strumming her throbbing clit and spraying what felt like a gallon of squirt fluids over the singer’s naked body as she did so.

After half an hour of untamed all-girl action, Taylor requested that some of her in-flight movies be screened to the sweating crowd, as they sucked and fucked, tongued and scissored their way over western Tennessee.  One of the flight attendants clambered down from atop Chloe Moretz’s greedy young mouth and made her way to the back of the plane where two pristine white cabinets stood either side of the spacious gangway.

She opened the doors, unveiling what can only be described as a treasure trove of exotic films; each of the tall cabinets containing more adult-themed Blu-rays than an Amsterdam sex store.  The stewardess gathered as many skin flicks as her slender arms could carry and distributed the X-rated discs to the numerous 4K plasma screens that lined the walls of the private jet.   

Before long, the plane was screening more exotic material than a teenager’s laptop; the luxury jet a wall to wall exhibition of adult entertainment to make the folks at Vivid Video blush.  There was FF, MF, MFF, FMM. Oral, anal, DP, toying, squirting, orgies, gangbangs; you name it, they were watching it, and as the mass smut screening commenced, the orgy raged along with it.

By now, Hailee Steinfeld was fingerfucking Elle Fanning’s ass, while a horny flight attendant fed an entire fist into Taylor Swift’s tight, wet cunt.  Chloe Moretz licked Miley Cyrus’ ass. A stewardess was fingering Selena Gomez; the lusty latina squirting more fluids than a New York fire hydrant in the process.  Then, with the all-star fuckfest reaching its peak, an announcement sounded out across the on-board PA system; the slightly muffled voice of the pilot barely audible over the loud impassioned screams of the rampant passengers.

“Good afternoon, ladies.  We are now approaching Nashville.  At this point you should be in your seat with your safebelt firmly fastened.” 

The ladies looked at one another’s nude, sweat-shined bodies; entangled in all manner of unbridled sexual poses.  A hoot of raucous laughter went up from the A-list flyers, completely drowning out the pilot’s voice as they rose from the airplane floor and returned to their seats.

“...with all hand luggage tucked under your chair.  Please ensure all electronic devices including laptop computers and television screens are switched off.”

The bare-assed flight attendants hurried through the private jet; hastily switching off the multitude of HD plasma screens, before taking their positions for landing.

“...thank you,” the pilot concluded.

The girls necked a final dose of Oxy for the landing, swallowing them down with a swig of tequila as the plane began its descent.  Taylor Swift rooted through her designer hand luggage, retrieving two large battery-powered vibrating wands and handing one to Selena Gomez in the seat beside her.  The girls spread their legs; turning the buzzing devices up to full power and holding them to their throbbing pink clits. They looked at each other, both their pretty faces lit up in orgasmic delight as they frigged themselves side by side.  Taylor licked her glossy pink lips, cooing lightly as she opened her mouth to speak.

“Now that’s what I call travelling in style!”

End of Chapter 4
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Re: Taylor's Southern Soirée (Taylor Swift, Carrie Underwood and co.)
« Reply #5 on: March 12, 2019, 07:13:45 AM »
Chapter 5

Starring: Carrie Underwood, Jana Kramer, Cassadee Pope and Maren Morris

Taylor Swift’s luxury jet touched down on a private Nashville airstrip at just gone 2PM Central Time.  Taylor and her celebrity pals re-dressed and gathered their belongings; grabbing a liquor bottle or two for the road as they headed for the exit.  The ladies filed out of the aircraft in an orderly fashion; blowing teasing kisses to pilots and flight attendants alike as they departed. They made their way across the open runway toward a large covered hangar.  A white stretch limo sat parked up inside, ready to ferry the A-list beauties through the afternoon traffic to their 5-star hotel.

Across town, a second limo, every bit as shiny and gleaming white as the first, pulled up to the sidewalk in a leafy, affluent neighborhood in suburban Nashville.  The front door opened and the driver, a smartly-dressed man in his mid 20’s by the name of Aaron, stepped out. The young limo driver had spent the best part of a hot Saturday afternoon navigating through the streets of Music City; picking up a selection of the prettiest, most scantily clad country and western stars the state capital had to offer, before finally reaching his final destination nearly two hours later.

Carrie Underwood’s lavish six bedroom mansion lay beyond the three silver sports cars parked up across her impeccably paved driveway, and past the exotic plants and freshly sheared lawn of her professionally landscaped yard.  Aaron traversed the lengthy garden path, stopping at the front door and ringing the bell. He heard the thud of high heels from within the sizeable home, before the door swung open.

“Hey, Aaron,” said Carrie Underwood, greeting him with a warm smile from her open doorway.

“Hi, Miss Underwood,” Aaron replied.  “You look lovely this afternoon,” the driver added, shifting to the side to allow the country singer past.

He wasn’t wrong.  In fact, the southern songstress didn’t look but a cent short of a million bucks.  She’d spent the better part of the morning in the shower cleansing and washing her long golden hair and toned, aerobicized body with enough costly shampoos, conditioners and shower gels to stock a shelf at the local cosmetics store.  As such, the singer’s blonde locks boasted all the shine and vibrancy of a Pantene model, while her skin had been left smoother than a baby’s behind; her silky, beach bronzed flesh slathered with enough lotions and moisturisers to de-wrinkle a garden gnome.

Next, the southern belle had searched her many walk in closets for suitable attire; digging through the hundreds upon hundreds of expensive garments like she was searching for buried treasure.  She’d tried on outfits in their dozens; tearing them off and flinging them aside. Finally she settled upon a cropped Nashville Predators t-shirt, a pair of Daisy Dukes and a set of designer stilettos; the singer looking like the Deep South personified as she emerged from her luxury abode.  In fact, she could only have dripped further with Southern pride if she’d had the Confederate flag emblazoned across her chest. The outfit clung to her athletic frame like a second skin; the scanty get up showcasing her well-defined effeminate musculature, perky B-cup titties and shapely peach of an ass in equal measure.   

She laughed coquettishly.  “You don’t look so bad yourself, sweetie,” the singer replied, brushing a hand across Aaron’s well-muscled chest as she passed.

Carrie’s choice of words, too, vastly undersold his appearance.  As a matter of fact, the young driver boasted the kind of good looks most men would lop off a testicle for.  He had the deep brown eyes and gleaming white teeth of a DKNY model, the beach bronzed skin of an LA surfer and the chiseled jawline of a Greek god.  His hair was parted to the left; the thick chestnut locks held in place with more pomade than the cast of Mad Men combined.

He wore a white shirt, black trousers and a matching tie.  The neatly pressed suit clung to him like a needy girlfriend; offering the A-list country star a teasing hint of the sinewy young body underneath.  Indeed, the handsome driver was literally bulging under his tight-fitting clothing; his arms so thick and rippling they looked as though they could have burst through the sleeves of his dress shirt at any given moment. 

Aaron grinned, watching Carrie’s beautiful round ass swaying from side to side in her denim short shorts, as he wheeled her designer luggage across the driveway.  He had driven for the country star numerous times before; journeys which had usually resulted in pulling up to the sidewalk, joining her in the back of the limo and making use of the dark tinted windows as she drained a creamy load from his balls.  And with a number of her country music cohorts along for the ride, the young driver sensed that he could be in for one hell of an afternoon.

Aaron opened the back door to his shiny stretch limo, a thick cloud of marijuana smoke wafting out through the open portal as he did so.

“Miss Underwood,” he said, ushering the blonde beauty inside.

“Thank you, Aaron,” she replied, flashing the limo driver a flirty smile as she climbed in.

The limo was nothing short of luxurious.  The seats were a plush black leather, the tinted windows so dark they would have rendered Clark Kent’s X-ray vision ineffective.  Ice buckets were dotted throughout the long white vehicle; countless bottles of the finest French champagne, vintage Spanish wine, strong Russian vodka and every brand of beer on God’s green earth cooling within, while rows of sparkling clean flute, cocktail, lowball, highball and shot glasses hung up above.           

What’s more, the stretch limo was kitted out with more electronic gizmos than the shelves at the Apple store.  Two 24-inch plasma screens were fixed to the window frames via black steel brackets. Every wall and surface boasted a phone dock or mounted iPad, while music of all kinds and genres blared from every powerful speaker and spine-tingling subwoofer within the luxury vehicle.   

Manning the comfy leather seats were Carrie’s friends; Cassadee Pope, Jana Kramer and Maren Morris.  All three were every bit as dolled up and scantily clad as Miss Underwood herself; the lavish car a veritable ocean of expensive makeup, dark mascara, pink lipgloss, highlighted hair and golden jewelry.  Not forgetting tight fitting tops, skimpy denim skirts, designer stilettos, beach tanned flesh and feminine muscle tone. Carrie greeted them one by one with a warm hug; taking a seat as the limo pulled away and crawled through suburban Nashville.

The girls talked and joked, chatted and laughed as they were chauffeured across town, passing around joints and hot-pink bongs like vintage baseball cards.  To say there were a lot of narcotics aboard the white stretch limo would be putting it mildly. In fact, the luxury vehicle was like a drugstore on wheels; with enough illicit substances on board to have every DEA agent across the land quaking in their boots. 

Indeed, the ladies were knocking back pills like they were M&Ms, not to mention doing enough bumps of expensive cocaine to put Whitney Houston to shame.  What’s more, the liquor was flowing in the back of the stretch limo like the River Nile and the ladies had already seen off several bottles of champagne before they hit central Nashville.  And that was only the beginning. The girls were downing Chardonnay like seasoned winos, necking shots and chugging beers like school kids at a kegger, and passing around hip flasks filled to the brim with bourbon, brandy, gin and everything in between.   

Before long, the ladies decided to pit their hard drinking ways against one another.  They lined up shots on every surface to hand. Vodka, sambuca, ouzo. Patron, Jack Daniels, Jagermeister.  You name it, they were necking it; the ladies facing off, one against one, to see who could down theirs the quickest.  A series of forfeits awaited the losing party.

Cassadee Pope and Maren Morris were up first; the ladies each lining up three tall shots of Absolut as they waited for the starting pistol.  Carrie Underwood yelled ‘go’ and the girls got to it; knocking back each of the strong vodka shots at lightning quick speed. The ladies downed their three drinks at record breaking rates; both the Southern beauties slamming down their final shot glasses a mere fraction of a second apart.  As a matter of fact, the finish as so marginal it would have taken an Olympic freeze frame to determine the winner outright. But for the purposes of the game Carrie named Maren the victor, and allowed the triumphant brunette to pick a forfeit for her bested opponent.

“Right, I dare you,” Maren began, taking a hit on a bright pink pong, “to stick your head outta that sunroof, and flash them perky li’l titties to the good people of Nashville.”

Loud hoots and cheers went up from both sides of the long white limo.

“Pfft,” Cassadee razzed over the shrill, whooping voices.  “Easy!” she declared, grabbing a bottle of Moet and popping the cork with her brightly coloured thumbs. 

Jana Kramer opened the tinted sunroof with the push of a button, and Cassadee took a swig of the vintage champagne as she readied herself for the forfeit.  The country singer poked her pretty head out through the open sunroof and stood tall in the centre of the limo; her hot athletic body exposed to the Nashville air from the waist up as the luxury vehicle crawled through the busy streets of Music City.

In fact, to say the streets were busy would be something of an understatement.  It had just gone 3PM, and with the temperature soaring into the low 90’s in central Nashville, the sidewalks were practically heaving with shoppers and alfresco diners as Cassadee Pope emerged from within the shiny white limo.   As such, the brown-haired beauty was garnering a good deal of attention from the get go. After all, it wasn’t every day a famous country music star popped her head out the top of a limo in broad daylight. But Cassadee didn’t let if faze her, and no sooner had she surfaced from within the luxury limo, had the Southern belle moved onto phase two. 

She chugged from the bottle of champagne, then held it aloft, screaming at the top of her lungs as she whipped down the top of her skimpy summer dress, flashing her perky B-cup tits to the lucky passers by.  Carrie Underwood and her celebrity chums cheered and whooped in encouragement from inside the long stretch limo; watching through the open sunroof as their naughty girlfriend bared all to the folk of Nashville. 

The Saturday shoppers couldn’t believe their luck, and cellphones were brandished in their dozens; men and women alike filming and shooting photos of the topless singer as the shiny white limo paraded through the city streets.  But Cassadee wasn’t perturbed by the scores of people snapping pics of her bare breasts like an animal in the zoo. In fact, she seemed to relish the attention; even going so far as to blow kisses to passers by and pour champagne over her tits, shaking them delightfully for the watching masses. 

Several minutes and countless snapped photos later, Cassadee returned to her seat; waving goodbye to the gathered crowd as she disappeared back into the limo.  With her lengthy exhibition finally over, the girls returned to their game; downing shots and doling out forfeits like there was no tomorrow. They made out with one another, did bumps of coke off each other and licked up champagne from stiff pink nipples.  They turned up the music; shaking their round, beach tanned buns for one another; some even winding down the tinted windows and showcasing their twerking skills for the people of Nashville as they crawled through the busy streets.

After countless forfeits and twice as many drinks, Jana Kramer and Carrie Underwood were pitted against one another.  Four shots of Patron were lined up before each of the women and the race got underway; the girls sinking the helpings of strong Mexican tequila like mere shots of water.  Jana won by a matter of moments and, as such, thought up an appropriate forfeit for the losing party.

“I dare you,” she said, popping a blue pill into her mouth and downing it with a swig of champagne, “to give the driver a handjob!”

End of Chapter 5
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Re: Taylor's Southern Soirée (Taylor Swift, Carrie Underwood and co.)
« Reply #6 on: March 12, 2019, 07:15:57 AM »
Chapter 6

Starring: Carrie Underwood, Jana Kramer, Cassadee Pope and Maren Morris

A shiny stretch limo stopped at a red light on a busy street in downtown Nashville.  The backdoor opened and Carrie Underwood climbed out; a hazy cloud of marijuana smog trailing out after her, as if someone was operating a smoke machine from within.  She closed the door behind her and ran around to the front of the car; the blonde singer moving as quickly as her skinny stiletto heels would allow.

Aaron had his hands rested on the steering wheel; the young driver peering through the windshield when there was a knock on the passenger window.  Who could that be? He wondered as he wound down the tinted glass.  A gourmet chef wheeling a buffet of costly hors d'oeuvres?  A drug dealer brandishing two kilos of Peruvian narcotics? A busload of greased up strippers and g-string clad gigolos? 

With four of the wildest, hardest partying starlets in all of country music in the back of his car, there seemed no end to the host of colourful characters that could have been lurking behind the darkened window.  To that end, Aaron was pleasantly surprised to see the pretty face of Carrie Underwood herself smiling back at him as he lowered the tinted glass.

“Miss Underwood, something the matter?” he asked through the open portal.

“No, everything’s fine, Aaron,” she replied.  “I was just seeing how you’re getting on. Figured you might want some company.  You must get awful lonely up here by yourself all day.”

The suggestion made Aaron nervous.  It wasn’t the first time Carrie had propositioned him in such a manner, not by a long shot.  As a matter of fact, hardly a journey went by without the handsome driver pulling over and joining her in the back for some afternoon delights.  And it was one thing accompanying the Southern songstress in the back of the limo when they were parked up in a quiet lay-by, but in the front seat as they crawled through the city streets was a whole other ball game.  It sounded like an accident waiting to happen.

To say Aaron was hesitant would be putting it mildly, but with the lights long since turned green and a band of menacing looking dudes in pickups shouting and hollering in his rear view mirror, the chauffeur had little choice but to let the her in.  Aaron opened the door and Carrie climbed in; a loud gulp escaping the young man’s throat as he envisioned the perils to come.

And sure enough, it wasn’t long before his fears came to fruition.  In fact, Aaron had barely had an opportunity to switch gears before the country starlet had set her naughty plan into motion.  She reached into the depths of her designer clutch bag, retrieving an expensive looking golden hip flask and taking a hearty swig.

“Drink?” she asked, offering Aaron a mouthful of the rich Kentucky Bourbon within.

“No thank you, Miss Underwood,” he politely declined.  “We’re not allowed to drink on the job.”

“Suit yourself,” she replied.  “More for me then.”

Then, with all the grace and subtlety of a bull in a china shop, Carrie dropped the hip flask onto Aaron’s lap; it’s strong alcoholic contents flooding out from the mouth and soaking the driver’s black suit pants.

“Oh my Gawd!  I’m sooo sorry!” Carrie squawked; putting her soft, dainty hands to her mouth, her lips parted in a perfect O-shape as she gasped at her apparent accident.

She picked up the dropped hip flask; smirking from ear to ear as she looked down at the young man’s lap.  The Bourbon had drenched his suit trousers; the wet garments sticking to his muscular thighs like superglue.  The soaking had given extra definition to the lengthy bulge in the driver’s pants; the outline of his oversized dick now clearly visible through the sodden fabric.       

“You know, I could drive for a little while,” Carrie offered, “if you need to dry your pants.”

“That’s OK, Miss Underwood,” Aaron replied.  “It’s strictly against the rules to allow a client to operate the vehicle.  Especially one under the influence of alcohol.”

“Oh, it’s just a little Bourbon,” the blonde laughed.  “Nobody need know. It’ll be our little secret. Come on,” she added, “I want to make it up to you.”

“It was accident,” said the driver.  “Don’t worry about it.” Aaron was fully aware that there was nothing accidental about it but, desperate to diffuse the situation, the young chauffeur said what he had to.

“Well there must be something I can do,” Carrie persisted.  “Maybe I could…” she paused, tracing a hand slowly across the outline of Aaron’s penis, “work the gearshift.  That would help right?”

“Uhh…” was about all the handsome driver could manage in response, as the country starlet stroked his cock through his drenched suit pants.

“Certainly seems to be helping,” Carrie grinned, feeling Aaron’s dick grow and stiffen through the sodden fabric.

She unzipped his fly and reached inside.  The blonde beauty gripped his dick with her hand, and in one swift motion, yanked the rock hard schlong free from the captivity of his pants.

“Oh, wow!” Carrie gushed upon sight of the oversized wang. 

She’d seen Aaron’s cock numerous times before, but it never ceased to amaze her quite how large it truly was.  Indeed, the chauffeur's penis was nine inches in length and boasted girth to rival even the most endowed of male pornstars. 

“They sure make gearshifts big these days, huh?” Carrie smirked, running her soft, silken hand up and down the fat, veiny shaft.  “Hmm, it’s a little stiff...” she added.

She wasn’t lying.  As a matter of fact, Aaron’s cock was already firmer than a steel girder, the head swollen up like a big pink golf ball, a pearl of pre-spunk shining in the slit.

“Maybe it needs an oiling,” Carrie suggested, reaching into her handbag and producing a small bottle of lubricant.  “This should get it going,” she grinned, holding the bottle over the tip of the penis and squeezing; a thick glob of sticky lube dripping down onto the bulging head.

The oil felt cool on the sensitive tip of Aaron’s rock hard schlong.  The icy sensation sent shivers up the young man’s spine and he shuddered from head to toe, momentarily losing control of the vehicle; the long white limo veering slightly into the opposing lane.

“Careful, big boy,” Carrie purred.  “We don’t want to have a crash now, do we?”

Aaron felt there’d be little he could do to prevent such a thing.  Carrie had barely touched his wang and already the chiseled chauffeur had forgotten most of his motor skills.  In fact, the limo could’ve been baring down head first on an oncoming truck and the young driver could’ve done little more than brace himself for impact.

And it only got worse from there.  Carrie returned the bottle of lube to her clutch bag and returned to Aaron’s penis.  She gripped it just below the head and ran her hand up and down the shaft, smearing the greasy lubricant across the span of his big, veiny prick.  *SCHLICK* *SCHLOCK* *SCHLICK* came the sounds from her skilled hands as she stroked his oil-slicked cock; the girthy member pulsing in her dainty mits. 

Aaron was sat frozen like an ice sculpture; the limo driver trying his level best to concentrate on the road ahead as he was stroked almost senseless by the randy singer.  Carrie’s hand felt simply amazing wrapped around his dick. Her mit roamed up and down the length of his dong in perfectly timed strokes; the velvet soft paw caressing every nerve and fibre along the way.   

The episode must have made quite the spectacle for anyone driving in the opposite direction.  Aaron’s handsome features were screwed up in all kinds of unflattering ways; the hung driver looking as though he was chewing his way through a batch of stinging nettles as he was jerked to within an inch of his life by the horny songstress.  Carrie, on the other hand, remained a model of professionalism throughout the whole ordeal; a slight movement in her shoulder the only indication that anything untoward may have been taking place under the frame of the windshield.

Carrie utilized every trick she knew; ensuring that Aaron’s long, girthy prick remained throughly rigid throughout the duration of her world class tugjob.  She used her fingers to knead his swollen dickhead. A river of prespunk flowed from his open tip and the country cougar used it to her advantage; smearing the sticky mess across the surface of his crown.  She stroked and jerked, fondled and caressed, even reaching into his pants to play with his big, spunk-filled balls.

Aaron was stiff like a statue.  The tensed driver clung to the steering wheel for dear life, damn near pulling it straight from its socket as he was jerked nigh on into a coma by the lusty singer.  His usually encyclopedic knowledge of Nashville side streets was jumbled into an incomprehensible mess in his muddled brain, and the young chauffeur took several wrong turnings, having to reverse out of a number of dead ends whilst being violently jerked off by a horny country star.

The limo continued through the city streets, Aaron driving as slowly as the cars behind him would permit and nearly ploughing the luxury ride into a number of passing vehicles along the way. Finally, after several more wrong turnings and a few potentially fatal near misses, the limo neared its destination; Carrie still beating vigorously at Aaron’s swollen meat.  His dick was pulsing and throbbing. His bulbous dickcrown bulged like it was fit to burst, and he could feel a thick, creamy spunkwad brewing in his oversized balls.

“Shit, I’m gonna blow!” Aaron blurted out, his strained voice barely audible over the loud, wet sounds of Carrie’s viscous pumping. 

His words excited the randy singer and her pretty face lit up at the promise of his goo.  “Ooh yes, baby!” she purred. “Shoot that creamy load!”

By now, Carrie was going at Aaron’s cock like a jackhammer; her hand little more than a colourful, manicured blur as she foriously spanked his throbbing plank.  His dick was twitching and spasming from tip to base and, as the car rolled in an awkward start-stop motion up to the entrance of the grand hotel, the driver’s big, girthy cock erupted like Mount Vesuvius.

“Uhhh!” Aaron cried, as an ungodly amount of hot, off-white sperm shot out from his gaping prickhole; splattering across the interior of the long white limo like blood on a bludgeon. 

It went everywhere.  On the steering wheel, the dashboard, the door, the window, his pants, his shirt, his tie and, of course, over Carrie’s hand.  In fact, by the time the pent up driver had finally ceased his brutal ejaculation, the singer’s dainty mit was literally dripping with his warm, creamy goo.

“Wow!” she gushed, bringing her cum-soaked hand up to her mouth so she could lick it clean.  “That was quite a load! And right on time too,” she added, peering through the tinted window at the tall 5-star hotel looming to her right. 

Carrie slurped up the last of the cum from her silky smooth hand and opened the passenger door, addressing the panting young man one final time as she exited the vehicle.

“Oh, be a dear and fetch our luggage from the trunk,” she said, flashing him a cheeky grin from the open doorway.  “There’s a good boy.”

End of Chapter 6
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Re: Taylor's Southern Soirée (Taylor Swift, Carrie Underwood and co.)
« Reply #7 on: March 12, 2019, 07:18:14 AM »
Chapter 7

Starring: Taylor Swift, Selena Gomez, Hailee Steinfeld, Miley Cyrus, Elle Fanning and Chloe Moretz


Taylor Swift and her A-list chums were gathered at the marble reception desk in the plush lobby of their 5-Star Nashville hotel, as a blonde receptionist named Jessica checked them into the penthouse suite. 

“OK, ladies, you’re all checked in,” Jessica announced; her manicured fingers clicking away at an iMac keyboard.  “Here are your key cards,” she added, laying out the plastic cards across the shiny reception desk. “Your suite is on the top floor.  If you’d like to head up, I’ll have your luggage sent for right away. I’d like to take this opportunity to thank you ladies for booking with us, and if there’s anything we can do to make your stay more enjoyable, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

The girls smiled warmly at the pretty receptionist.  “Thank you, sweetie,” said Taylor, gathering her key card from the desk.  “We’ll be sure to do that.”

The ladies departed, crossing the vast hotel lobby and heading for the elevator.  As they filed inside, a handsome young bellboy by the name of Kyle strolled past the reception desk. 

“Kyle,” Jessica called to him as he passed, “could you collect Miss Swift’s luggage from the limo outside and take them up to the penthouse suite?”

“Sure, Jess,” he replied as he headed for the entrance.

A shiny white limo sat parked up across the wide hotel doorway; a smartly dressed chauffeur stood by the open trunk.

“Allow me, sir,” Kyle announced, reaching into the trunk and gripping one of the designer suitcases by the handle.

“I think you’re gonna want a hand with that, young’un,” said the 40 year old driver, stubbing out a cigarette with his freshly polished brogue.

“That’s OK, sir,” the porter replied.  “I’ve got this.”

Kyle strained to lift the suitcase, the young hotel employee immediately balking at the sheer weight of the expensive luggage.

“Jesus!” he groaned, the mass of the designer suitcase too much for even his considerable musculature to handle.

“Told ya,” grinned the driver, leaning into the open truck to give the young man a hand.

“Christ!  What do they have in here?!” Kyle exclaimed, as the pair lifted the heavy suitcase from the back of the long white limo.

“I daren’t imagine,” the driver replied, returning to the trunk for the second piece of luggage. 

The bellboy and driver piled the suitcases onto a tall steel trolley; the base of the cart creaking under the weight of the expensive baggage. 

“Damn!” Kyle declared, looking up at the pile of suitcases; stacked up past the top of his head and beyond.  “How long are they staying for?!”

“Just tonight, pal,” the chauffeur replied.  “I’m picking up Miss Swift and her friends tomorrow morning.”  One night?! Kyle exclaimed.  There was enough luggage piled up on the steel trolley to last two large families for a fortnight.  “And if the drive here was anything to go by,” the driver smirked, “you could be in for quite the evening!”

Taylor Swift fed her key card into the slot by the entrance and turned the handle; opening the door to the illustrious penthouse quarters, and stepping inside.  It occupied half of the top floor; the suite eight large rooms of pure unadulterated luxury. The lounge was fitted with cream shag carpeting, while all manner of expensive artworks lined the pristine white walls.  At the centre of the room sat a plush five piece suite. Two black leather three seater sofas and matching reclining armchairs surrounded a gleaming glass coffee table- each of the comfy furniture items adorned with countless silken scatter cushions.

A 75 inch 4K UHD plasma screen sat opposite atop a sparkling glass stand; the state of the art television equipped with every satellite channel and streaming service imaginable, while a Blu-ray player, a PlayStation 4, an Xbox One and a host of other electronic devices stacked the shelves underneath.  A set of surround speakers; each one capable of deafening a white rhino, sat in all four corners of the room.

A lengthy oak bar ran adjacently.  The varnished surface was lined with every type and brand of liquor known to man; the luxury bar offering the alcoholic favourites of nigh on every country the world over.  There was brandy, gin, whiskey, rum, tequila, vodka. Soju, pisco, mezcal, cachaca, baijiu and sake, to name but a few.

What’s more, a row of mini fridges were lined up behind; each one stocked to the brim with bottles of French champagne and every brand of beer under the sun, while an opposing row of shelves were stacked with countless bottles of vintage wine; the finest reds and whites from Italy, Spain, the US, Argentina, Australia, South Africa and everywhere in between. 

Across the way stood a pine table, the long counter stretching damn near the entire span of the vast living space.  A set of antique china had been spread across the lacquered surface; every bowl overflowing and each plate stacked high with every luxury food item on God’s green earth.  There was a variety of seafood; shrimp, prawns, lobster, crayfish, oysters, scallops, mussels. Plate after plate of smoked salmon, caviar and enough sushi and sashimi to feed half of Tokyo. 

And that was just the beginning.  There were porcini mushrooms, truffles, quail eggs, Swiss cheese, Belgian chocolate, gourmet fudge, tubes of whipped cream and bottles of chocolate sauce.  There were segments of melon, peach, mango, apricot and pineapple, not to mention bowls of freshly picked grapes, strawberries, raspberries, blueberries and passionfruit. 

Beyond the lounge lay four large bedrooms; each one kitted out with a king size bed, sheets handsewn from the finest Egyptian cotton, thick sheepskin rugs, smooth silk drapes, polished oak vanities, more sparkling clean reflectors than a hall of mirrors, a giant plasma screen and enough closet space to put Elton John to shame.

What’s more, there were no less than three bathrooms, each boasting a large walk in shower, a deep ceramic bath and a powerful jacuzzi; every faucet, basin and shower head gleaming like a 24-carat diamond.  Every shelf and surface were lined with expensive shower gels, shampoos, moisturisers, lotions and perfumes, while Turkish cotton towels and robes hung from the backs of doors, the tops of radiators and the sides of bathtubs.

Put simply, the suite was the stuff of dreams; a vast set of living quarters fit for an empress, and as Taylor and her friends took the grand tour, stopping to graze from the buffet or pour a glass of wine at the bar, there was a loud knock at the penthouse door.  Taylor crossed the room; glass of vintage white clutched in her dainty hand as she opened the heavy door.

Kyle was stood in the entranceway; the ladies’ expensive luggage stacked on a large steel trolley behind him.  He wore a navy double breasted jacket and a pair of matching pants; the snug-fitting uniform offering a tantalizing outline of the muscular young frame that lay beneath.  Indeed, Kyle appeared to sport the build of an NFL quarterback; his bellboy’s uniform clinging to a body so chiseled and sinewy it would turn Tom Brady green with envy.

What’s more, the young hotel employee boasted the brand of good looks that would make even the most devout of Frisco bull dykes go weak the knees.  He had bright, ocean-blue eyes, sparkling white teeth, neatly trimmed designer stubble and thick golden hair; his stylish ‘do freshly barbed and sculpted into place with more hairwax than the state of New Jersey. 

“Girls, our luggage has arrived,” Taylor called out, grinning flirtatiously at the handsome porter, “and look what came along with it.”

Elle Fanning and Chloe Moretz joined her in the open doorway.

“Oooh, yummy!” said Elle, looking the burly young man up and down.  “I didn’t realise we were getting room service already!”

The girls laughed.

“Come in, come in,” said Taylor, shifting to the side to allow the bellboy past. 

“Thank you, Miss Swift,” he replied, stepping through the open doorway and wheeling the heavy cart in behind him.

Kyle reached to the peak of the luggage pile, gripping the suitcase at the top and hauling it down, trying his utmost not to strain as he did so. 

“Oh, wow!  Big strong man!” Chloe cooed, admiring the young man’s biceps as he set the expensive suitcase on the floor.

Kyle grinned as he returned for the second item, laying it on the carpet beside the first.  Selena Gomez and Hailee Steinfeld approached from across the room.

“Ooh, our luggage is here,” Selena exclaimed.

“Good, then I can finally change out of these clothes!” Hailee declared.

“And not a moment to soon,” the Latina quipped, squatting down to open her luggage.

“Fuck you, bitch!” replied the brunette.  “You shouldn’t have made me squirt so bad on the way here!”

The girls unzipped their suitcases and, as Kyle continued to retrieve designer items from the pile of luggage, he started to discern the sources of their immense weight.  Indeed, each of the expensive items was stuffed to near bursting point, and as the ladies rooted through their packed suitcases for a change of clothes, all manner of exotic items came tumbling out.

There were sex toys of all kinds and varieties; double ended dildos, strap-ons, butt plugs, anal beads, vibrators, wands, Rampant Rabbits.  Not forgetting plastic cocks of every shape, size and colour, and it didn’t stop there. In fact, every one of the designer cases had been packed full with bongs, kilos of Colombian cocaine, blister packs and pill bottles filled to the top with colourful capsules and tablets.  Not to mention more exotic green herbs than the Amazon and Congo rainforests combined.

And that was just beginning.  Beyond the host of marital aids and expensive narcotics lay a bed of designer clothing; skimpy little tops, belt-thin skirts, denim short shorts and spindly high heels.  Not forgetting costly French lingerie, tiny bikini tops, floss-like g-strings and an array of accessories and cosmetics. Designer watches, diamond rings, golden jewelry, flatirons, curling tongs, priceless perfume and more expensive beauty products than a Vegas drag queen.

Finally, and with half the contents of their luggage spread across the cream carpet, Hailee and Selena had picked out a change of clothes and, with Kyle still unloading from the tower of suitcases, the girls got to undressing.  The young bellboy could scarcely believe his eyes and ears. Here he was surrounded by six of his favourite women in all of showbusiness; the A-list beauties sorting through dildos, discussing their sexual exploits and stripping down to their bare asses like he wasn’t even there!  In fact, the scene was remarkably similar to a wet dream he’d had a couple of years back and has he hoisted the final piece of luggage from the tall steel trolley, Kyle could feel his dick growing and stiffening under the fabric of his suit pants.

“OK, you’re all unloaded, Miss Swift,” Kyle announced; the designer suitcases laid out across the penthouse floor.

“Thank you, young man,” Taylor replied. 

There was an awkward pause as Kyle lingered in the open doorway, the popstar taking a moment or two before she realised why.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” she exclaimed.  “You want your tip,” she said, fetching her wallet from within her designer clutch bag.  “Though you look like you’ve got a pretty big one already!” she quipped, spotting the outline of the bellboy’s penis through his pants.

Taylor’s friends laughed.  Kyle blushed, making a lame attempt to cover his hardon with the hem of his jacket.  Taylor opened her wallet and peered inside.

“Hmm, I’ve only got $50’s in here,” she declared, “and I think we’re going to need them later,” she giggled, tapping her dainty little nose and flashing the young porter a cheeky wink.  “Do you accept...other forms of payment?” she purred, stepping toward him and reaching for his dick.

Kyle gulped.  “Ermm, I’m sure we can work something out, Miss Swift.”

Taylor grinned.  By this point Elle Fanning and Chloe Moretz were positioned on either side, all three fixing the handsome bellboy in equally sultry stares; looks which only served to stiffen the young man’s cock further.   

“Hear that girls?” Taylor asked.  “Looks like we’ve got work to do!”

End of Chapter 7
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Re: Taylor's Southern Soirée (Taylor Swift, Carrie Underwood and co.)
« Reply #8 on: March 12, 2019, 07:23:14 AM »
Chapter 8

Starring: Taylor Swift, Selena Gomez, Hailee Steinfeld, Miley Cyrus, Elle Fanning and Chloe Moretz

Taylor Swift and her celebrity pals had only been checked into their Nashville hotel for 15 minutes and already they were up to no good.  Hailee Steinfeld and Selena Gomez, in an effort to cleanse themselves of the sweat they’d worked up on the flight and connecting limo ride, had gone to take a shower together.  Miley Cyrus was busying herself at the buffet; the bleach blonde singer nursing a glass of vintage white as she picked at the luxury spread.

That left Elle Fanning, Chloe Moretz and Taylor herself to deal with the problem of tipping their bellboy.  Kyle had only been working at the 5-star establishment for four months, but the young porter had already amassed a small fortune in gratuity; with the hotel’s wealthy patrons able and willing to tip handsomely for services rendered.  On this occasion though, Kyle hadn’t received but a single cent for his hard work and instead had accepted an alternative form of payment from the A-list guests.

The ladies were surrounding the handsome porter like a pack of wolves.  An army of soft, dainty hands roamed across his chiseled young body; the horny trio delighting in his rippling biceps, rock hard pectorals and long, thick penis in equal measure.  Elle placed a hand at the back of his head; her lengthy nailed fingers exploring his thick blonde hair as she guided him down for a kiss.

While Kyle made out with Elle, Taylor was busying herself with the cylindrical lump in his pants; the horny singer stroking the bellboy’s cock through the thin fabric.  Taylor and Chloe were making out and soon the young man joined them; the trio exchanging tongues like gifts on Christmas morn. The swarm of manicured hands continued to rove across his muscular frame; the scene bordering on molestation as the fair-haired threesome squeezed his firm ass cheeks and groped his swollen cock through his pants.

By now, Kyle and Chloe were Frenching; their tongues dancing a waltz in their conjoined mouths as Taylor unzipped his fly.  The singer reached inside, gripping his dick with her silky smooth hand, and pulling it free like a rabbit from a hat. The girls looked down at Kyle’s penis; cooing and awwing as their hungry eyes feasted upon the oversized member.

“Oh my goodness!” Elle exclaimed, her blue eyes bulging at the sight of Kyle’s dick.

“It’s huge!” Chloe added. 

“Mmhmm,” Taylor agreed.  “We’ve lucked out here, girls.”
They really had.  Kyle’s cock was truly enormous; ten inches long and girthy beyond belief.  Thick, juicy veins ventured up and down the shaft, while the head swelled like a big pink mushroom top; a glob of precum pooling in the open tip. 

“What do you girls say we take this dick somewhere a little more comfortable?” Taylor suggested, giving the dong a light stroke as she addressed her two friends.

“Lead the way, Taylor,” Chloe replied.

The girls walked hand in hand toward the black leather sofas; Elle gripping Kyle by the cock and leading him behind like a dog on a leash.  Taylor pushed Kyle down onto the couch, standing over him like a sexy mistress as the girls encircled him once more. Elle and Chloe climbed up onto the sofa and knelt either side of him; Fanning on his left, Moretz to his right, as Taylor knelt on the floor at his feet.

Chloe stroked his cock; her soft, velvety paw roaming up and down his dick in expertly timed strokes.  Elle unbuckled his belt; the horny actress yanking the leather strap free from its fabric loops like a dominatrix with a whip.  Kyle kicked off his shoes as Taylor tugged down his pants; the horny blonde pulling the garments down his muscular legs and past his feet before tossing them aside.   

Kyle sat atop the comfy black couch, nude from the waist down.  His dick stood tall and rigid like a skin skyscraper, his heavy, shaven balls draping down and trailing across the leather seat cover.  Taylor reached out to fondle the bellboy’s nuts; the naughty singer rolling the spunk-filled gonads around her fingers like big flesh marbles. 

As Taylor played with the balls, her friends got to work on the cock, and no sooner had Kyle’s pants been removed, had the fair-haired duo leaned over him; wrapping their glossy pink lips around his bulging dickhead.  Chloe and Elle licked and sucked at the prickcrown like they were sharing a popsicle; their soft wet tongues flicking back and forth across one another as they lapped at the swollen head.

While her friends worked the dick, Taylor took care of the balls.  She fed them into her mouth one by one; sucking on each of the big, cum-churning orbs like they’d been dipped in honey, slathering them in her spittle before moving onto the next.  By now, Chloe and Elle had moved onto the shaft. Both ladies wrapped their lips around the base of the penis; their twin sets of plump, juicy dickpleasers pressing together with Kyle’s giant wang sandwiched in between.  The girls guided their mouths up and down the length of his shaft; their soft, pouty lips moving in perfect synchronicity as they teamed up on the lengthy cock.

Kyle was on cloud nine.  He could scarcely believe what he was seeing.  Three girls; world famous singers and film stars no less, were gathered at his crotch, sharing his dong like a vanilla malt.  He thought he’d died and gone to heaven. The bellboy picked up his phone from the armrest and opened Snapchat. He held the phone aloft and shot a photo of the three A-list beauties tag-teaming his dick.  He punched in the caption: how’s your Saturday going? [followed by an aubergine and three girl emojis] and hit post.   

As Chloe and Elle shared his penis, their asses stuck up in the air invitingly on either side.  Kyle set down his phone and reached out and grabbed them; squeezing and caressing two handfuls of peachy round ass as he enjoyed the threeway suckjob.  By now, Chloe and Elle were making out; Moretz stroking the girthy cock as they locked their luscious lips. With his dick now free, Taylor released Kyle’s balls from her mouth; gripping the oversized dong firmly at the base and wrapping her lips around the swollen head.  Chloe and Elle broke from their kiss; the girls impressed by their friend’s ferocity, as she took hold of that thick, meaty prong and made it hers.

“Ooh yeah, you get that dick, Taylor!” Chloe exclaimed.

“Show that cock who’s boss, girl!” Elle added, both girls grinning from ear to ear as their celebrity pal sucked down the lengthy fleshpole. 

Indeed, Taylor was doing just that and more.  The randy popstar held the girthy prick at the base- her head little more than a pretty blonde blur as she worked her pouty lips up and down the shaft.  Chloe and Elle could do little more than watch on; the fair-haired duo gawking listlessly as their girlfriend feasted on the fat, long cock like it was her last meal.

Taylor was going at Kyle’s dick like a seasoned pornstar.  She slurped and sucked, drooled and slobbered; coating the oversized member in volumes upon volumes of slick, wet saliva along the way.  Kyle cooed and groaned; his eyes glazing over as he was sucked almost unconscious by the lusty singer. Finally, Taylor came up for a breather; leaving the lengthy dong twitching, throbbing and dripping with spit in her wake. 

“Wow, Taylor!” Chloe gushed.  “You sucked the hell outta that dick!”

“Mmhmm,” Taylor agreed, wiping a mess of saliva from her skilled mouth.  “Now I wanna suck something else out of this dick,” she added with a smirk.  “Here, why don’t you girls help me?”

She wrapped her dainty hand around the base once more, angling the girthy penis in Chloe’s direction.  The young actress didn’t need a second invitation. She enveloped the big, bulging head with her lips, guiding the glossy pink pair up and down the shaft; bobbing her head and sucking the giant dong with equal gusto to that of her popstar counterpart. 

Kyle was amazed.  There seemed no end to the oral talents this trio of A-list beauties possessed.  There was simply no way for the young porter to determine which of the three worked his dick the best and as his girthy cock was passed onto Elle, the handsome bellboy was almost overwhelmed by the sheer wealth of skills and tricks performed by the trio of all-star sucksluts!   

They tongued at his dickhole, encircled his head with their tongues, lapped at the underside and licked up and down the shaft from base to tip.  They spat, slathered and drooled, sucked, slurped, stroked, jerked and sucked some more; the girls reeling off more oral techniques than a band of Times Square hookers.  And it didn’t stop there. Still the girls continued to hand the dick back and forth, from Taylor, to Chloe, to Elle and back again; each of the randy celebs taking the opportunity to suck the big, long cock right down to the balls before it was passed onto the next. 

But regardless of the volume of pornstar-grade tricks bestowed upon his lengthy penis, Kyle held strong.  In fact, he’d undergone enough impressive oral techniques from the blonde-haired beauties to have even the most devout of homosexuals spewing their spunk, but the young man had made it through unscathed.  However, the girls weren’t finished yet and as the bellboy sat atop the plush leather couch, recovering from the latest spell of ruthless cock slurping, Taylor pointed at him with a lengthy nailed finger; letting the chiseled youth know how she wanted him next.

“You,” she said, with the authoritative tone of a sexy school teacher, “stand up.”

Kyle did as he was told lest he face the consequences (and Lord only knew what they might be!), and rose to his feet before the horny celebs.  The ladies gathered around him; a trio of A-list sluts kneeling at his feet. Three sets of pretty eyes ranging from emerald green to sapphire blue gazed up at him as they prepared for the final act of their world class blowjob. 

“Come on, girls,” Taylor smirked.  “Let’s make this dick explode!”

Taylor positioned herself directly in front of Kyle, with Elle on her right and Chloe to her left.  Taylor engulfed the porter’s swollen dickhead with her shiny pink lips and looked up at him; the randy songstress staring a hole through his well-muscled frame as she sucked his giant rod.  While Taylor handled the crown, Chloe and Elle took care of the shaft. The horny duo wrapped their soft, pouty lips around the base of Kyle’s dong and worked them back and forth along the length of his wand. 

Kyle picked up his phone and snapped a second picture of the girls going threes up on his cock; Taylor’s stark blue eyes staring straight down the camera lens as she serviced him.  He posted the image on Snapchat with the caption: still going strong [followed by two bicep emojis] and tossed his phone back onto the couch. 

By now, the ladies were covering every inch of his lengthy penis.  Taylor was bobbing her head at a frankly alarming rate of knots; the lusty singer sucking the dick right down to around mid-shaft, while her two young girlfriends took care of the rest.  Elle reached up to fondle Kyle’s balls; feeling a big, thick cumwad brewing in the spit-slicked orbs as she and Chloe shared his throbbing cock.

Kyle started to tremble from head to toe.  He’d more than held his own throughout the duration of the epic suck sesh.  Indeed, the young porter had stood strong amid a vicious onslaught from not one, not two, but three showbiz sluts; retaining his seed throughout countless tag team tonguings and shared threeway sucklings that would have seen lesser mortals blowing their beans in a matter of seconds.  But now, after 30 solid minutes of world class oral from a trio of randy celebs, Kyle could hold back no longer.

“I’m gonna cum!” he panted by way of warning.

Taylor removed the long, twitching cock from her mouth, jerking the spit-slathered shaft as she addressed her A-list chums.  “Ready, girls?” she grinned. “Sounds like it’s time for our reward!”

Chloe sucked on Kyle’s balls; the randy blonde feeling the creamy spunk load churning away in the plum-sized gonads as she drenched them in her spittle.  Elle was spitting and drooling over the bellboy’s cock; adding yet more lubricant to the dripping wet shaft as Taylor beat him off.

“Come on, big boy,” Taylor purred, pausing to lick at the porter’s winking dickhole, “blow that load!  Give us all that hot fucking cum!”

Kyle could feel his dong pulsing in Taylor’s hand.  He breathed heavily, his burly chest rising and falling rhythmically as every pass of her soft, manicured paw brought him closer and closer to the point of eruption.  He clenched his fists, his balls brewing and churning, his cock throbbing, twitching, pulsing until…

“UUUGH!! FUUUUUCK!!!” he bellowed, his dick going off like a fireman’s hose; the lengthy member expelling enough fluid to extinguish the Boston Fire.

Taylor parted her pouty lips; catching the flying cumwad in her mouth like a performing seal.  It was a load of almost unfathomable volume; the copious wad of semen damn near filling her pretty pink mouth to the brim. 

“Oh my goodness!” Elle gasped.  “That’s a lot of cum!”

“Gimme that load, Taylor!” Chloe demanded to the singer’s left.  “I want to taste that creamy spunk!”

Chloe assumed the position; her head tipped back, lips agape in wait of the hot load.  Taylor leaned over, pursing her lips as she spat the thick, off white jizzwad straight into her friend’s mouth.  And that was merely the beginning. Indeed, the girls spent a good few minutes passing the cum back and forth like some kind of precious liquid; spitting it out and catching it in their mouths like a dog with a frisbee.

Kyle watched on; the handsome bellboy panting like he’d swam the English Channel, as the showbiz trio swapped his spunk back and forth like Pass the Liquid Parcel.  He gathered his phone once more. The young porter snapped one final picture of Taylor and Chloe making out; a thick drop of spunk slopping out from between their conjoined lips and landing in Elle’s waiting mouth.  He posted it with the tag: and I’m spent [followed by three splashing emojis], and pulled on his boxers. 

Kyle was tugging on his jeans, the girls still passing his cum back and forth when the penthouse door swung open.  Stood in the doorway were Carrie Underwood and her country and western pals; each of them wearing equally sultry grins as they looked on at the scene before them.

“Well, well,” said Carrie, wheeling her designer suitcase behind her as she strolled into the luxury suite, “looks like you sluts got started without us!”

End of Chapter 8
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Re: Taylor's Southern Soirée (Taylor Swift, Carrie Underwood and co.)
« Reply #9 on: March 12, 2019, 07:28:10 AM »
Chapter 9

Starring: Taylor Swift, Selena Gomez, Hailee Steinfeld, Miley Cyrus, Elle Fanning, Chloe Moretz, Carrie Underwood, Jana Kramer, Cassadee Pope and Maren Morris

The penthouse suite on the top floor of the Windsor Park hotel in downtown Nashville was abuzz with excited chatter and the clinking of glasses as Taylor Swift, Carrie Underwood and their respective bands of glamorous showbiz friends mingled in the spacious lounge.  Both celebrity troops had travelled to the luxury 5-star hotel in the backs of stretch limos and the cabins of private jets. They’d eaten and drank, smoked and snorted for damn near the entire journey; sucking or jerking off any handsome pilot, limo driver or hotel employee that got in their way.

Finally, and the better part of two hours behind schedule, they’d reached their destination; the girls convening in the plush penthouse living quarters as the party got underway.  The ladies were gathered at the lavish buffet and overstocked bar; chatting and laughing, talking and gossiping; discussing everything from managers to manicures and knocking back seafood hors d'oeuvres and glasses of French champagne as they went.

Taylor had put Kyle, the young bellboy, back to work, moving her friends’ designer suitcases into the bedrooms; a task which, due to the expensive luggage’s considerable weight, looked like it make take him a while to complete.  As he got to it, Taylor and her A-list pals moved to the couches; taking countless bottles of liquor and pound after pound of weed and cocaine with them as they took to the three seater sofas. The girls sat around a long glass coffee table; the gleaming surface covered with champagne glasses, cocktail glasses, lowball, highball and shot glasses, lush green herbs and dozens of multicoloured pills. 

They rolled joints and cut up mounds of coke with golden credit cards, downing champagne, cocktails and shooters as they went; working their way through every long and short drink known to man along the way.  Pina Coladas, Singapore Slings, Mojitos, Screwdrivers. Applejacks, G&Ts, rum and cokes, vodka Red Bulls, Irish Monsters. They drank them all and more; punctuating each beverage with a shot of tequila or bourbon for good measure.   

As the liquor flowed, the conversation moved into more risque territory, and it wasn’t long before the ladies’ sexual exploits were the main topic of discussion.  The music blaring from all four corners of the room drowned out much of what the girls were saying, but Kyle did pick up the odd half-sentence here and there, and as he heaved the designer luggage across the luxury suite, Taylor and her celebrity chums exchanged X-rated tales like pornstars at a dinner party. 

“...and I gotta tell you ladies, he was hung like a bison!” said one girl.   

“...next thing I knew he was pounding my asshole like a jackhammer!” declared another.

“...her bedsheets were soaked by the time we were done.  It was her own fault, I told her I was a squirter!”

“...it was thicker than a baseball bat!”

“...we were swapping cum like birthday presents!”

“...one in my pussy, one in my ass and another balls deep in my mouth!”

And on and on; each and every anecdote met with hysterical laughter and loud whoops and cheers from the surrounding starlets.  After a solid hour of alcohol, cocaine and marijuana consumption, things started to get a little wild. One by one, the girls climbed up onto the coffee table; taking their turns to take centre stage as they danced for their encircled friends.  The ladies pranced across the long, glass table; their stiletto heels and expensive high top sneakers knocking tumblers both empty and full to the floor in the process.

They twerked, ground and gyrated like strippers; moving to the beat and shedding their designer clothes as they went.  Some even hopped down and leant over the coffee table; thrusting their supple round asses into the air and shaking them frantically for those watching.  Kyle couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The young porter had long since finished his task but had stuck around to watch the show. After all, who in their right mind wouldn’t?

By this point the girls were giving each other lapdances; squeezing each others tits and slapping one another on the butt.  Someone had gathered a bowl of halved strawberries and a tube of whipped cream from the buffet table, and everywhere Kyle looked, pop and country singers alike were putting the erotic food items to use.  Jana Kramer and Hailee Steinfeld were sharing strawberries; the brunette duo sucking down the freshly picked fruit until their lips pressed together, then making out as they savoured the succulent red flesh.     

Miley Cyrus squirted two neatly coiled pyramids of whipped cream atop Maren Morris’ stiff pink nipples, before licking and sucking them clean; the sweet white goo smearing suggestively across her full, pouty lips as she did so.  Elsewhere, Selena Gomez and Cassadee Pope placed strawberry halves into glasses of champagne; intertwining their toned, beach tanned arms as they chugged the expensive booze.

Girls were making out and feeding one another strawberries left, right and centre.  Taylor Swift and Jana Kramer. Elle Fanning and Carrie Underwood. While those not kissing were tonguing up globs of whipped cream from any stretch of fragrant, moisturised flesh that took their fancy.  Kyle didn’t know where to look; the bellboy’s big, tender penis swelling and stiffening in his pants once more as he watched the scene unfold.

Unsurprisingly, the ladies had no objections to Kyle sticking around to watch; some even shooting the young man flirty looks over their friends’ shoulders as they made out passionately before him.  Finally, after a lot more kissing and with the handsome porter pitching a fresh tepee in his navy suit pants, Carrie Underwood looked up from Chloe Moretz’s beach bronzed chest, having just licked up half a tube of whipped cream from her perky B cup tits.  She looked across at Kyle; lapping up the excess cream from her lips as she addressed him from across the room.

“Are you gonna stand over there all evening, sweetie?” she asked, her voice carrying a sultry, cat-like purr as she gazed longingly at the chiseled young hunk.  “Or are you gonna come over here and make yourself useful?”

End of Chapter 9
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Re: Taylor's Southern Soirée (Taylor Swift, Carrie Underwood and co.)
« Reply #10 on: March 12, 2019, 07:34:42 AM »
Chapter 10

Starring: Taylor Swift, Selena Gomez, Hailee Steinfeld, Miley Cyrus, Elle Fanning, Chloe Moretz, Carrie Underwood, Jana Kramer, Cassadee Pope and Maren Morris

Kyle was sat atop a comfy three seater sofa, naked as the day he was born.  His navy blue bellboy’s uniform had been all but torn from his person by a pack of horny celebrities not five minutes before.  Stradling the young man was Selena Gomez; her arms wrapped around his hulk-like shoulder blades, her pretty face lit up like a Christmas tree as she hopped and bounced atop his thick, lengthy cock. 

The slick, bubblegum-pink lips of Selena’s pussy journeyed up and down Kyle’s girthy dong like a glass elevator; her snug little snatch leaving a glistening layer of sugary-sweet fluids coating the girthy shaft with each pass.  A chorus of moans and groans escaped her soft, pouty lips as she rode his dick; the light, feminine coos synching perfectly with the *SLAP* *SLAP* *SLAP* of her peachy round ass as it clattered repeatedly with his thighs.

Women surrounded the young porter from all angles.  A rotating cast of randy A-listers knelt at his thighs, gobbling at his swollen balls, while others took turns to prize his cock from the vice-like grip of Selena’s twat; sucking the oversized member clean before returning it from whence it came. 

Others knelt beside him on the plush leather couch or stood behind; reaching over the backrest and pawing at the musclebound stud like kids at a petting zoo.  Smooth, dainty hands roamed up and down his arms and across his chest; squeezing and caressing his bulging biceps and hard, slab-like pectorals, while neatly manicured fingers explored his thick blonde locks, making a mess of his carefully styled hairdo.  They licked Kyle’s torso, kissed his neck and nippled on his earlobes; taking every available opportunity to make out with the chiseled hunk or lock lips with Selena as she bounced on his girthy cock.

Selena rode the handsome bellboy like a bitch from hell; guiding her moist pink pussy lips right up to the head with each pass, before dropping back down, burying all ten of his thick, veiny inches deep in the recesses of her cunt.  She locked her hands around his neck or pressed down on his abs like she was completing a set of press ups; violently bucking and gyrating her hips as she tamed his giant prong.

Every so often, Kyle took control; gripping Selena’s beach bronzed buttcheeks and driving his cock up into her.  As he did so, the girls at his feet took turns to tongue at her asshole, making the lusty latina squeal in ecstasy as she was banged out from below.  Selena’s athletic body tensed from head to toe. Her pussy clenched Kyle’s dick like she was trying to choke the life out of it. His cock throbbed uncontrollably in the darkest depths of her twat as she came time and again over the girthy fleshbeast.

“Yes! Yes! Fuck me!” she screamed.  “Fuck me with that fat fucking cock!”

And fuck her he did.  In fact, the burly young hunk was giving her all had; showing the randy A-lister little mercy as he ploughed her ballsdeep with his lengthy prick.  Every thrust into the depths of her tight, piping hot snatch made his dick twitch and pulse, his spit slicked balls brewing with a fresh load of thick, creamy spunk in no time at all.

Before long, the feel of Selena’s warm, velvet soft twat wrapping around his tender wang was too much for the well-muscled porter and every now and again he reached down to yank it free; grabbing the dripping schlong at the base and instructing any celebrity slut within spitting distance to suck it clean.  And they did so with aplomb. In fact, damn near every sex-crazed starlet in the luxury suite guzzled at his cock like it had been glazed in jam; the coating of Selena’s saccharine-sweet cunt juices only heightening their desire for his oversized dong.

At one point, Miley Cyrus was slurping so ruthlessly at his cock that Kyle nearly lost his load straight down her throat; the bellboy soon realising that the ladies’ mouths were no safer an environment for his pulsing dong than Selena’s pussy had been.  As such, the young porter returned his dick to Selena’s pussy; treating the horny popstar to one solitary thrust before prizing it free once more. He fed the sopping wet cock to anyone in eyeshot; allowing the chosen party one pass on his trembling fleshwand before returning it to the latina’s pussy once more. 

Lips and tongues roamed up and down Kyle’s dong in their twos and threes everytime he pulled it from Selena’s gash.  Pop and country stars alike slurped at his girthy schlong or tongued at his prickhole, while a host of A-list beauties suckled on his big, spunk-churning balls.  Once his cock had sufficiently settled, he returned it to Selena’s twat; the horny songstress quickly picking up from where she left off.

“You like me bouncing on your cock like that, huh?” she purred, her long nails digging into his chest as she rode astride the supine stud.

Selena bucked and writhed atop the handsome bellboy like she was taming a bucking bronco; every muscle that made up her taut, toned midsection flexing and popping as she hopped up and down on his lengthy rod.  Kyle began to tremble from head to toe; the popstar’s ultra-tight, burning hot pussy nigh on milking his oversized cock like a seasoned farmhand.

He attempted to pull his dick free, hoping to employ the same trick as before so he could retain his brewing load for a few more precious minutes.  This time, however, Selena was having none of it, and the randy singer sat atop the young man’s lap with a mother bird; clamping down so tightly on his hips with her muscular thighs that it would take the strength of an Olympic weightlifter to prize her off.

Selena’s friends whooped and cheered in encouragement as the latina ground and squirmed on Kyle’s lap like a woman possessed; his dick throbbing and pulsing inside her like it could blow at any second.  Horny starlets stroked and carressed him left, right and centre; every plump set of lips planting kisses on his neck, every moist tongue licking across his chest, every lap and suck of his low hanging ballsack bringing him closer and closer to the point of eruption.

“Fuck!” Kyle gasped.  “I’m gonna blow!”

He leapt up from the couch, taking Selena with him; the pintsized popstar cradling the bellboy’s athletic frame as he hoisted her into the air.  He set her down on her knees atop the fluffy shag carpeting; Hailee Steinfeld and Maren Morris quickly flanking the Latin singer on both sides as Kyle jerked his twitching cock.

“Mmm, yes!” Selena cooed, fondling the young porter’s oversized balls as he vigorously tugged at his throbbing prick.  “Shoot that creamy spunk all over us!”

The ladies encircled Kyle like a pride of hungry lionesses; stroking and caressing nigh on every inch of his sinewy body as he pulled himself off.  Jana Kramer and Elle Fanning were stood behind him; kissing his neck as their soft, lotioned hands roamed across his burly chest. Taylor Swift and Cassadee Pope squatted at his side and squeezed his muscular thighs; their expertly filed fingernails digging into the bicep-laden flesh as they did so. 

Before him, Selena and Maren were making out; their slick red tongues brushing back and forth across one another as they gazed up at the musclebound stud.  Beside them, Hailee was spitting and slobbering over his cock, taking breaks to tongue at his oozing dickhole as she slathered his dong in saliva. *SCHLICK* *SCHLOCK* *SCHLICK* came the sounds from Kyle’s dexterous hands as he spanked his spit-slicked plank; his gaping dickhole winking with every stroke, his balls bulging with what felt like a week’s worth of semen brewing inside and begging to be released.

Without further ado, he did just that; a loud “UUUUGGHHHH!!!” escaping Kyle’s mouth as a thick jet of off-white jism blasted from the tip of his dong.  He aimed his spewing cock at every all-star slut in a three foot radius; painting no less than three pretty faces with ropes of his hot seed. A thick splodge had splattered against Hailee’s cheek and across her nose, a second splashed across Maren’s lips and chin, while a third hit Selena full in the face; a long streak of creamy spunk that trailed from her forehead, between her eyes, across her nose and right down to her mouth.

Loud whoops and hollers went up from all around him; every A-list spectator throughout the luxury suite cheering and awwing as the bellboy shot his epic load.  And they didn’t stop there. No- in a matter of seconds, half of the celebrity onlookers were on their knees; greedily lapping up the cum from their friends’ faces and kissing them with their mouths covered in semen.  They weren’t done with Kyle yet either, not by a long shot. In fact, no sooner had the handsome porter blown his wad, were the ladies back on him; pushing him back onto the couch so the next horny starlet could take her turn. 

Over the course of the next hour, every randy celeb within the penthouse walls had a go on the young stud; bucking, hopping and bouncing atop his person before handing him onto the next.  Some assumed the cowgirl position; their perky tits jiggling in his face as they rode his giant rod. Others opted for the reverse variation and Kyle got to watch their shapely, round bubble butts rise and fall as they squatted on his dick.  But regardless of their chosen stance, each and every one of the celebrity sluts bounced their tight slick vaginas up and down his dong like seasoned pros, cumming over the long, thick fleshwand before passing it on.

Every so often Kyle jumped up from the couch, violently stroking his massive cock and shooting a thick, creamy load in any waiting mouth or on any pretty face that took his fancy, only to be shoved straight back down and ridden into oblivion once more.  And while one girl took her go on his cock, the supporting cast kept themselves busy elsewhere. They stroked and licked his chest or gobbled at his balls; some even laying down beside him and frigging themselves off as they waited for their turn.

The scene was like nothing Kyle had witnessed before.  Even the dirtiest of porno movies he’d seen didn’t boast but a fraction of the depravity and debauchery of this all-star orgy, and the young porter felt it only right he share his experience with the world.  He whipped out his phone once more; shooting a fourth image of the A-list beauties gathered around his crotch.

Carrie Underwood’s supple, beach bronzed ass was thrust out behind her; Kyle’s fat, glistening cock half submerged in her tight, wet snatch as she squatted atop his sinewy frame.  Chloe Moretz and Miley Cyrus were clawing at his chest; both women staring straight up at the handsome bellboy and into the camera lens, their twin sets of long, manicured nails digging into his flesh like they were scaling a cliff face. 

Yet more hands roamed up and down his arms from over his shoulders, while various famous starlets could be spotted in the background; taking a break to hoover up lines of cocaine or sink a few shots before wading back into the fray.  Kyle posted the image to Snapchat with the tag: no caption required [followed by two zip mouth emojis] and hit send.     

Countless orgasms and numerous X-rated Snapchats later, came the turn of Jana Kramer; the singer climbing atop Kyle’s dick and riding it like a cowgirl at a rodeo.  She hopped and bounced on that giant wang, the lengthy member venturing deeper inside her than any that had gone before; the bulbous, golf ball-sized head touching places she hadn’t thought possible and making scream out in ecstasy with each pass.  Below her, Cassadee Pope was guzzling at Kyle’s big, shaven balls; the randy brunette given quite a shock when her fellow country star climbed off the bellboy’s cock, spraying a powerful torrent of squirt juices straight into her face as she did so.       

“Uhhh! You BITCH!!!” she screamed, her face drenched by her girlfriend’s ladyload; the clear fluids dripping from her chin and soaking her carefully styled hair.   

It had been an accident, of course, but Jana was seemingly overjoyed by her friend’s misfortune; the brown-haired babe laughing raucously as her galpal sat utterly drenched at the foot of the sofa. 

“Oh, I’m gonna get you for that one, slut! Come here!” Cassadee smirked, leaping up from the sodden carpet and chasing her giggling friend across the luxury suite.  “Pin this bitch down!” she yelled to anyone in earshot. “I’m gonna make her pay for that shit!”

Chloe Moretz lunged at Jana as she sprinted past; gripping the singer in a bear hug and wrestling her to the carpet.  The others were on her an instant; the ladies laughing and giggling like teens at a sleepover as they held her arms and legs to the floor, pinning the brunette beauty down like schoolyard bullies.  The girls cleared a path for Cassadee; the country starlet standing over her girlfriend’s midriff. She frigged herself wildly, shooting a fountain of girlcum into the air; the clear liquids raining down over Jana’s body like an effeminate monsoon. 

More girls stepped up, standing over Jana’s pretty head one by one and spraying further dousings of lady liquids over her hot nude frame.  Jana wriggled and writhed on the floor, screaming and laughing hysterically as a waterfall of feminine fluids lashed down on her from above.   

“Yeah, you like that, bitch? Huh?” grinned Cassadee, strumming her clit and sending yet another geyser of squirt fluids pouring down over her helpless friend. 

The ladies laughed and joked, playfully teasing their supine girlfriend as they sprayed her with load after load; soaking every inch of her taut, toned body along the way. 

“Ladies, ladies,” called a voice from behind the baying mob; it’s loud, shrill tone bringing the frenzied laughter and high-pitched shrieking to an abrupt halt as the girls turned to determine its source.

“There’s only one way to settle this,” came Taylor Swift’s voice from one of the luxury bedrooms.  She marched back into the vast living space; a giant vibrating wand clutched in one hand, a long black strap-on in the other.  She grinned at her gathered friends, holding the sex toys aloft like a set of trophies. “How about a squirt off?”

End of Chapter 10
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Re: Taylor's Southern Soirée (Taylor Swift, Carrie Underwood and co.)
« Reply #11 on: March 12, 2019, 07:36:16 AM »
Chapter 11

Starring: Hayley Williams


A black BMW Z4 convertible pulled up to the entrance of the Windsor Park hotel in downtown Nashville.  The driver’s door opened and a pair of red Converse All Stars planted themselves on the sidewalk as Hayley Williams climbed out of the luxury vehicle.  She spotted a handsome young hotel employee named Jordan wandering out through the vast entrance and called him over; the southern songstress grinning coquettishly at him as she approached.

“Can I help you, Miss Williams?” he asked.

“You sure can,” she replied.  “I need a big, strong man to fetch my luggage from the trunk,” she explained, pointing at her shiny black Beemer.  “Reckon you could do that for me?”

“Right away, Miss Williams,” Jordan replied, gathering the keys from the pretty punk singer as he strolled around to the rear of the vehicle. 

He popped the trunk and fetched Hayley’s hefty designer luggage from within, setting it down on the sidewalk as he offered the redheaded beauty further assistance.

“Would you like me to escort your luggage to your room, Miss Williams?” the young man offered, hopeful of receiving one of the ‘tips’ he’d seen on his buddy Kyle’s Snapchat earlier that afternoon. 

“That’s OK,” Hayley replied.  “I think I’ll manage. That car ain’t gonna park itself though,” she added, heading for the hotel entrance.

“Oh...uh...certainly, Miss Williams,” said Jordan.  “Leave it with me.”

“And no scratches, OK?” she called back from the open doorway.

“Uh...yeah...yes, of course.”

“Thank you, handsome,” said Hayley, flashing the young man a teasing wink as she disappeared inside.

Jordan stared down dejectedly at the keys to the BMW; its sexy A-list owner already halfway to the reception desk, without giving him as much as a kiss on the cheek for his hard work and diligence.  “Fuck,” he sighed.

Hayley crossed the lobby of the lavish 5-star hotel; Jessica, the pretty young receptionist, smiling warmly in her direction as she made her approach.

“Afternoon, Miss Williams,” she said.  “Welcome to Windsor Park hotel. Are you with Miss Swift’s party, may I ask?”

“Yes, honey,” Hayley replied, leaning on the gleaming marble reception desk.  “Sure am.”

“Wonderful,” Jessica smiled.  “Miss Swift has already checked in.  Let me just fetch your key card and you can go right on up.”

“Thank you.”

Jessica turned and fetched a keycard to the penthouse suite.

“OK, Miss Williams here’s your keycard,” said Jessica, placing the card on the desk.  “I’m afraid our porter, Kyle, is a little tied up at the moment…”

“I’m sure he is,” Hayley smirked. 

The receptionist laughed nervously.  “But maybe Marvin here could help you with your bags,” she went on, gesturing towards a handsome black lift operator stood across the lobby beside the elevator door.  “Marvin,” she called, “could you show Miss Williams to the penthouse suite, please?”

“Sure, Jess,” said Marvin as he approached.  “Good evening, Miss Williams.”

“Hi, there,” Hayley replied, grinning flirtatiously at the ebony-skinned man as he strolled up to the reception desk.

She was instantly attracted to the young elevator operator; the punky redhead delighting in his dark chocolate skin, soulful brown eyes, pearly white teeth and carefully trimmed afro haircut, not to mention the chiseled athlete’s frame his navy blue hotel garb was doing little to conceal.  Indeed, the uniform clung to him like an overbearing parent; offering a teasing glance of the musclebound NBA power forward’s body that lay within.

And Hayley wasn’t the only one liking what she was seeing.  Marvin, too, was in awe of the southern belle’s breathtaking beauty and alluring physique; the dark-skinned hunk eyeing her hot little body like a piece of meat in a butcher’s shop window.  She wore a tight-fitting red and black plaid shirt and a cropped Ramones T-shirt; the skimpy outfit showing off her long, slender legs, flat, toned midriff and luscious B-cup chest in equal measure.

What’s more, she was dolled up in countless dollars worth of designer cosmetics; the singer’s carefully applied makeup complimenting her natural good looks and edgy rock chick style to a tee.  Her hair had been freshly dyed a strong, vibrant red, her lips coated a bright shade of pink, while all manner of cherry-red shadows and black liners and mascaras brought out the emerald greens of her eyes.     

“Allow me, Miss Williams,” Marvin grinned, stepping forward and taking the handle of her expensive luggage in a large black mit. 

“Thank you,” Hayley smirked back, eyeing the young man hungrily as he started toward the plush elevator.     

“Right this way.”

Marvin called for the elevator and the doors slid open.

“After you,” said the lift operator as he ushered Hayley inside.

He spotted the bottoms of the sexy singer’s supple, round ass spheres sticking out below the hem of her plaid mini skirt as she entered; the ebony stud biting his thick lips in appreciation.

“Damn,” he muttered as he followed in behind her. 

Marvin pushed the button for the top floor; hotel employee and A-list songstress alike standing side by side, smirking with sexual tension as the door rolled shut. 

“Going up.”

End of Chapter 11
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Re: Taylor's Southern Soirée (Taylor Swift, Carrie Underwood and co.)
« Reply #12 on: March 12, 2019, 02:43:07 PM »
Chapter 12

Starring: Hayley Williams

Hayley Williams stood before Marvin’s hulking, chiseled frame; her soft, dainty hands roaming across his burly chest, as the plush elevator began its ascent to the top floor of the Windsor Park hotel.  Marvin had his hands on her hips; the handsome lift operator delighting in her alluring curvature as he lent in for a kiss. The pair made out passionately; their tongues encircling wildly as they locked lips with one another. 

Hayley unbuttoned Marvin’s double breasted jacket; the young black man sliding it down his arms as they made out.  She ran a hand up his left arm; the singer squeezing and caressing the toned appendage, enjoying the layers upon layers of rock-hard muscle that made up his bulging biceps.  Marvin reciprocated; the dark-skinned hunk sliding his hands under the hem of her teeny plaid skirt, kneading and caressing the pert cheeks of her shapely round ass.

The pair broke from their kiss; Hayley moving down to kiss her lover’s neck as she unbuttoned his white dress shirt.  Marvin followed suit; undoing the hook of her skimpy little skirt and sliding it down her slender legs. Hayley threw Marvin’s unbuttoned shirt open like curtains on a summer’s morn; revealling the stud’s dark chest in all it’s rippling, well-muscled glory. 

She gasped at the sight of his torso.  The young lift operator had the body of a Voodoo god; pecs as hard as boulders, abs carved from ebony cobblestone and arms so thick and bicep-laden they’d put most heavyweight boxers to shame.  Hayley ran a paw across his upper body; the black painted tips of her fingers tracing every groove and crevice along the way. Her other hand went excitedly for his groin; her green eyes bulging as she felt the hard, impossibly large lump snaking down his muscular thigh.     

“Oh my!” Hayley purred, gazing up at Marvin with a thoroughly unconvincing look of butter-wouldn’t-melt innocence as she stroked his cock through his pants.

“You like that, girl?” he asked, his deep, soulful voice sending shivers through her spine as she felt him up.

“Mmhmm,” she grinned, kissing the black stud once more as she rubbed his giant prick.

Marvin reached down to her crotch; the musclebound hunk sliding a finger tantalisingly across the slit of her pussy, feeling the warm, slick moisture as it oozed from her womanhood and soaked her white cotton panties.  Hayley closed her eyes, groaning with lust as the burly black stud teased her sodden gash.

“Sure feels like you like it,” Marvin quipped, reaching up to pull her cropped Ramones t-shirt up over her pretty head.   

He dipped down to get at her breasts; fondling one of the milky white chest mounds with his dextrous hand while he tongued greedily at the other.  Hayley moaned; the randy singer tilting her head back as the chiseled youth lapped eagerly at her stiff pink nipple. One hand was placed at the back of his head; her black-tipped fingers exploring his freshly barbed afro, while the other stroked his dick through his pants; feeling the oversized member grow and stiffen with each pass of her smooth, lotioned paw. 

As Marvin moved onto the other breast, Hayley began to remove his pants; the horny redhead unbuckling his belt as he licked at her swollen teets.  She was on cloud nine; growing wetter by the second as she unzipped Marvin’s fly; her dark-skinned lover sucking on her tits like a hungry newborn. 

Hayley dropped to her knees and slid her fingers under the hem of Marvin’s underwear.  She whipped down both his navy suit pants and checkered boxers in one swift motion. His cock shot out and flopped up and down mere inches from her face; Hayley’s luscious pink lips forming a perfect O shape as she stared in amazement at the large African schlong before her.

Marvin’s cock really did defy belief and seemed to extend beyond the capacity of the mere mortal.  It was eleven inches in length with girth to match, veinier than a weightlifter's bicep and as black as the ace of spades.  A neatly-trimmed bush of dark Afro pubes grew from the base, while a giant set of jet black balls dangled pendulously between his thighs like big flesh wrecking balls.

Hayley licked her lips upon sight of the long dark rod, gripping the oversized penis at the base and tonguing at the tip; the punk singer quickly taking care of the puddle of precum that had formed in the open slit.  She wrapped her lips around Marvin’s swollen dickhead; her dainty hands beginning to roam up and down the girthy shaft, the randy songstress looking up at the young lift operator as she sucked his monster cock.

“Yeah, get that dick, white girl,” Marvin cooed, his thick African lips puckering in delight as Hayley worked him over.

By now, Hayley’s lips were venturing up and down his shaft in smooth, rhythmic passes; the horny redhead drooling and slobbering over every fat black inch along the way.  Thick, wet strands of spittle smeared across the underside of Marvin’s dong and dripped onto the floor; a puddle of the singer’s saliva pooling by her knees as she sucked the oversized dick.

Hayley was having the time of her life; the pop-punker slurping and sucking at the thick dark schlong like a dog with a bone, spitting and drooling lovingling over every veiny, coal-black inch as she went.  Marvin, too, was receiving more than his fair share of pleasure from the interracial suckjob. Hayley’s expert mouth and soft, lotioned hands caressed every nerve in his long chocolate dong, his girthy prick twitching and throbbing wildly as she blew him.

“Uhh!” Marvin groaned.  “Yeah, baby! Suck that big black dick!”

Hayley, it turned out, needed little encouragement in that department.  Indeed, she was already going at Marvin’s cock like her existence depended on it; the lusty singer sucking and slurping at the thick African meat like the cure to some kind of life-threatening illness was contained within.  She stroked and jerked, drooled and slobbered; her hands, lips and tongue caressing damn near every inch of the thick schlong as she sucked the big black member inside out.

She lapped at the underside with her tongue, licked at the drooling slit, stroked the shaft and fondled the balls; Marvin’s huge ebony dong twitching and pulsing in her hands as she serviced him.  Marvin quivered from head to toe. Hayley had only been going at his giant black cock for a matter of minutes, but her supreme sucking skills had the dark-skinned stud teetering on the edge of eruption already.

“Shit! I’mma bust a nut!” he declared; his voice soft and breathy as he was sucked six ways from Sunday by the horny white girl.

His words were music to Hayley’s ears and the randy singer retrieved Marvin’s fat chocolate penis from the confines of her mouth; gazing up at him as she violently jerked the thick, spit-shined wang. 

“Oooh, yeah baby!” she cooed in delight.  “Gimme that thick black spunk!”

Hayley looked up at Marvin, staring a hole through the chiseled black stud as she furiously beat his long dark meat.  Her mouth was agape in wait of his cum; his swollen dickhead nestled between her soft red lips, the tip of her tongue lapping at the prickhole as his giant ebony schlong pulsed and throbbed in her silken hands.

Hayley’s tugjob technique was nothing short of phenomenal.  Her hands roamed up and down the big dark cock in expertly timed passes; the southern songstress beating the oversized wang into submission with her smooth, lotioned mits.  Marvin’s sinewy black body was trembling like a California earthquake. His legs had turned to jelly; so much so that the young lift operator thought they may buckle from underneath him as he was stroked almost senseless by the lusty singer.

“Fuck!” he groaned.  “Here it comes, baby!  Here it...FUUUCCCKKK!!!”


Eric closed the door to his hotel suite and crossed the pristine white hallway; his wife, son and daughter following behind as he headed for the elevator door.  All four were kitted out from head to toe in Minnesota Wild merchandise as they headed off to their team’s early evening face off with the Nashville Predators.

“Who’s excited?” asked Eric as he called for the elevator with the push of a button.

“I am! I am!” replied his two young children in perfect unison, leaping with joy at the prospect of a vital win on the road for their beloved club.

“Me too,” Eric replied, as the lift stopped with a loud ding.  “We’re gonna smash those damn Pred…” he went on, trailing off as the door slid slowly open, his jaw falling slack as the scene from within the plush elevator unveiled itself before his waiting family. 

A well-muscled black man stood tall in the luxury elevator; utterly nude save for his polished brogues and the navy blue pants pooled around his ankles.  Squatted before the ebony stud was a pretty young redhead; instantly recognisable to Eric’s daughter as singer Hayley Williams. She was almost as scantily clad as her dark-skinned counterpart; wearing little more than a pair of white panties, the outline of her hungry, cotton-devouring cameltoe clearly visible through the sodden undergarments. 

Clutched in Hayley’s smooth, dainty hands was the black man’s long chocolate cock.  The randy songstress squeezed out the last few drops of semen from the wide open tip, her gaping mouth already filled near to the brim with what looked to be a week’s build up of thick African seed.  The pair looked across at the gawking family; Marvin panting heavily as he recovered from his thunderous ejaculation. Hayley closed her lips; winking cheekily at Eric’s young daughter as she swallowed the creamy load of rich black spunk in a single mouthful.

“Ugh...we’ll take the stairs,” said Eric, grabbing his two children and leading them hastily away from the unexpected interracial peep show.         

Eric’s wife remained rooted to the spot; the pretty blonde MILF staring listlessly at the giant ebony penis clasped in Hayley’s soft, lotioned hands.

“Come on, Amanda!” Eric snapped, gripping his wife by the arm and hauling her away as the elevator door slid shut.

The door closed and the lift continued up to the penthouse suite. 

“Damn, girl,” Marvin exclaimed, reaching down to pull up his navy suit pants, “you sucked the hell out of my dick!”

“Mmhmm,” Hayley agreed, “I sure did.  But I hope you’re not wanted downstairs anytime soon,” she went on, “‘cause I ain’t done with you yet!”

End of Chapter 12
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Re: Taylor's Southern Soirée (Taylor Swift, Carrie Underwood and co.)
« Reply #13 on: March 12, 2019, 02:46:10 PM »
Chapter 13

Starring: Hayley Williams

The thin wooden door did little to quell the noise coming from the maintenance room on the top floor of the Windsor Park hotel, and the series of orgasmic moans and groans emanating from within could be clearly discerned by any passerby.  Once the elevator had reached the top floor of the luxury hotel, Hayley Williams tugged on her discarded clothing and grabbed the young lift operator Marvin by the shaft of his long black penis. She led him out into the hallway, quickly finding the nearest room that wasn’t locked and slipping inside.

Inside the top floor maintenance room, Hayley was laid back atop a small table.  Her short plaid skirt had been hiked up around her flat, toned midriff, her cropped Ramones t-shirt had been pulled up, exposing her creamy white B-cup tits.  Her legs were spread; her white cotton panties dangling precariously from the collar of a red Converse All-Star. Her pretty face was lit up like the Fourth of July, a small, dainty hand placed atop Marvin’s head; her black-tipped fingers digging into the tightly curled buds of his neatly trimmed afro as the dark-skinned hunk busied himself between her thighs.

Hayley was in seventh heaven; a series of loud, impassioned coos and light, breathy cuss words escaping her soft pink lips as her pussy was eaten out like never before.  Indeed, Marvin was doing quite the job between her legs; the black stud putting every man that went before to shame as he tongued expertly at her pulsing clit. In fact, his cunilingual prowess seemed to extend beyond those of Taylor Swift and Hayley’s other celebrity pals; a gang of sex-crazed sluts whose epic rug-munching skills made even the most experienced of girl-girl only pornstars look like rank amateurs in comparison.

Marvin’s thick African lips were pursed around Hayley’s clit, his skilled tongue flicking back and forth masterfully across the stiff red flesh; every brush of his long, moist pussy pleaser sending jolts of pleasure through her tight, toned frame.  Two fingers probed her gash; the dextrous brown digits venturing deep into her nether regions, the tips bothering her g-spot with every pass he took. Hayley was horny beyond belief; the punk singer oozing her womanly secretions like sap from a conifer.  Indeed, her pussy juices were going everywhere by this stage; the saccharine-sweet fluids coating her thighs, Marvin’s lips and his long, skilled fingers as he went to town on her dripping twat.

“Yes, baby!” Hayley groaned.  “Eat that fucking pussy!”

Her words, of course, fell on deaf ears.  Marvin had been munching on her gash like it was his last meal for the better part of fifteen minutes and was clearly in little need of encouragement; the ebony youth showing no signs of letting up as he probed her deeper with his dextrous digits and tongued harder and faster at her throbbing clit.

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum like that!” Hayley cooed, pawing at her perky breasts as she was eaten into ecstasy by the well-built black man. 

She reached down to grab Marvin’s head; the southern songstress holding him so firmly between her thighs that the young stud couldn’t escape if he wanted to.  He scoffed greedily at her dripping cunt; her sweet, sugary girlcum dripping down his chin as he did so. Hayley closed her eyes. Her slender body quivered from head to toe, a steady stream of mewls and groans passing her pretty pink lips as she was tongued to orgasm by the dark-skinned hunk.

“Mmm,” she murmured, “I’m gonna cum!  I’m gonna...FUUUCCCKKK!” she screamed, her body trembling, her cute face contorting in all kinds of unseemly ways as a wave of intense orgasmic pleasure tore through her. 

Hayley breathed heavily; the pop-punker overwhelmed by the sheer wealth of ecstasy her ebony counterpart was capable of administering with his tongue alone.  Marvin rose to his feet, his lips coated with Hayley’s lady liquids; the randy singer strumming her throbbing clit as the black stud unzipped his navy pants. He reached inside and produced his cock once more; Hayley gasping with delight upon fresh sight of the flesh behemoth. 

The southern belle had had more than her fair share of run-ins with oversized genitalia in her time, but a cock this big came as a shock even to her.  In fact, Hayley surmised that, even if she saw the fat ebony penis on a daily basis, she still wouldn’t have grown fully accustomed to it’s sheer magnitude.  It’s immense length and unfathomable girth, it’s network of thick, juicy veins, the size and weight of his giant black balls, not to mention the volume and density of the rich African spunk contained within; the sheer, almost impossible blackness of the thing.  It made the guys in the pornos she watched look like they were packing the phallus of a prepubescent boy by way of comparison, and had her tight white pussy oozing and quaking for more.     

“You ready for this dick, girl?” Marvin asked, holding the long black cock in his hands the way a snake handler might grasp a particularly venomous cobra. 

Hayley’s eyes lit up at the promise of his cock.  “Yes!” she exclaimed. “Get that fucking dick inside me right now!”

Marvin didn’t have to be told twice.  He stepped up; rubbing the leaking tip of his thick African dong against the slick folds of her twat, teasing the horny singer briefly before pushing it inside. 

“Uhhh!” Hayley groaned, her green eyes bulging as the girthy round head invaded her hot, wet cunt. 

Marvin began to rock slowly, guiding his long black dick back and forth; the veiny, chocolate shaft glistening with Hayley’s fluids as he worked it to and fro.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Hayley encouraged.  “Fuck me! Fuck me with that big black cock!”

And fuck her he did.  Marvin started to pick up the pace; driving his ebony penis harder and deeper into Hayley’s twat with each passing stroke.  Before long, his swollen brown dickhead was hitting her g-spot each time, not to mention stretching out her tight pink pussy for all it was worth; his immense length and unfathomable girth making the randy singer cry out in ecstasy on every pass.

“Yes! Yes! Fuck my pussy!” Hayley cried, reaching up to grip at Marvin’s barrel chest; his unbuttoned shirt revealling his pecs in all their chiselled, sweat-shined glory. 

His pants were pooled around his ankles, his bare musclebound ass going like a jackhammer as he drove all eleven of his thick, girthy inches into the deepest recesses of her cunt.  By now, Hayley was cumming over and over, her effeminate fluids oozing from her gash at a frankly alarming rate; smearing across her thighs and coating Marvin’s long black cock from tip to base.  And still he didn’t let up; the lift operator pounding her pink pussy with all he had, making the horny songstress scream and beg for more.

Before long, the duo changed up positions.  Marvin gripped Hayley by the ass and hoisted her up; the burly stud lifting her into the air like she weighed but the mass of a newborn babe.  His dark fingers dug into the supple white cheeks of her butt as he held her aloft. Hayley threw her arms around Marvin’s hulk-like shoulder blades; her dainty hands exploring his nappy hair as he bounced her up and down on his cock.

“Oh, fuck! Yes! Yes! Yes!” Hayley gasped; the big black stud guiding her petite white body up and down his dong.

He lifted her up so high that the slick pink lips of her tight, warm pussy slid all the way to the top; so far up his gargantuan fuckstick that only the big, swollen head remained inside, before dropping her down, all the way down to the hilt; impaling the randy singer on his African cock like a head on a spike. 

Hayley was on cloud nine.  She was no stranger to a large penis by any means, but Marvin had, without a doubt, the biggest, thickest cock she had ever come across.  Every time the dark-skinned hunk speared her on his long, oversized dick, it touched places she hadn’t thought possible, making her cum over and over; each venture into the depths of her hot pink twat seeming to ignite a fresh orgasm from within the lusty singer. 

Then, Marvin held Hayley still; the black stud bucking his hips wildly as he drove his cock up into her.  He showed her little mercy; pounding his cock deep into her snatch, giving the pop-punker all he had and more, while she clung to his muscular torso for dear life.  Hayley threw her head back; gazing up at the ceiling, her fingers interlocked around Marvin’s neck. She cried out in tumultuous ecstasy as yet another thunderous orgasm tore through her slender body. 

“Lay down,” Hayley panted, her voice light and breathy as she came down from what must have been her tenth straight orgasm of the afternoon.

“Hmm?” Marvin replied, the young lift operator scarcely able to hear his light-skinned counterpart over the slapping together of their tight, toned bodies.

“Lay down,” the singer repeated.  “I want to ride your cock like a fucking rodeo!”

Marvin did as instructed; sitting down atop the wooden table and taking Hayley with him; his thick African dong still embedded within the depths of her pussy.  He lay back and Hayley got into position. She planted her Converse on the surface of the table; leaning back in an impressive crab-like stance, her hands either side of his legs.  She began to rock up and down on his dick, feeling it pulse and throb inside her with every pass she took.

“Oh, shit!” Marvin exclaimed, impressed by the singer’s grace and agility as she rode his monstrous cock.

Though Hayley’s poise and dexterity weren’t the only things to have caught the young man’s eye through the duration of their interracial fuck session.  In fact, there seemed no end to the redheaded starlet’s abilities in the bedroom and she had exhibited more skills in the art of dick-taking than even than a Times Square hooker.  She gave lead like a seasoned pro and had the endurance and stamina to go toe to toe with even the most well-built of horse-hung muscle studs.

Many a wealthy hotel patron had tried in vain to tame Marvin and his long dark penis, most baulking upon first invasion of the black behemoth; running back to their needle-dicked husbands with their tails between their legs after little more than the head of his giant African schlong had entered them.  Hayley, though, had done nothing of the sort; the horny singer taking his dick from all angles like a champ, cumming on it, cumming again and then cumming some more, all the while screaming and begging for more like a woman possessed.

Hayley hopped and bounced atop Marvin’s cock; the randy redhead performing perfectly formed squats atop his muscular frame, guiding her tight pink twat right down to the base and back again; her pussy oozing its slick warm fluids over every inch of the oversized fucktool as she went. 

“God damn!” Marvin sighed; the young man cooing like a wounded animal as Hayley’s snug, wet pussy clenched and squeezed his cock like a soft pink vice.

“Yeah, you like that pussy, huh?” Hayley grinned back devilishly; leaning forward into the cowgirl position and bouncing on Marvin’s dick like a bucking bronco. 

He did like that pussy.  He liked it a lot.  Hayley’s vagina was tight, soft and moist, not to mention burning hot like a furnace.  Everything a good pussy should be, and as Hayley bucked and writhed atop his chiseled frame, Marvin could feel her slick, ultra tight twat gripping his dick like a clamp; the hot pink hole threatening to milk every ounce of semen from his big black balls at a moment’s notice. 

“Oh, fuck!” Marvin panted.  “I’m gonna cum!”

His words were music to Hayley’s ears, and she bounced faster and harder atop his oversized dick; the lusty songstress hell bent on coaxing another thick, creamy load from his nuts.  Marvin could feel her doing just that. His dick was throbbing and pulsing, his balls churning with a second helping of rich, virile semen. Without warning, he leapt up from his supine position, taking his white counterpart with him and lowering her quickly to the floor           

Hayley dropped to her knees as Marvin stroked his pounding cock.  She reached out to fondle his balls; feeling the second creamy spunkwad brewing in the giant black orbs as she looked up at him, her pretty face screwed with want and desire.

“Yeah, cum for me, baby!” she encouraged.  “Shoot that thick load over my face!”

Marvin’s dick quivered and quaked as Hayley squeezed and kneaded his balls.  His hand was little more than a black blur as he beat his pounding prick; stroking, jerking violently until…


A thick load of cum, every bit as hot and creamy as the first shot out from the hole of his dick; splattering across Hayley’s face like blood on a bludgeon, plastering her cute features in streaks of warm spunk.     

“Oh, wow!” she exclaimed.  “That dick of yours sure can go off, huh?”

“Yes...huh...yes, Miss Williams,” Marvin panted; the burly lift operator overcome by the sheer force of his ejaculate.

Hayley scooped up a dollop of cum onto her index finger; slipping the black-tipped digit into her mouth and sucking it clean.

“Mmm, yummy!” she murmured.  “Right, I better be going,” she declared.  “The girls will be wondering where I am.”

The pair dressed and reconvened in the hallway; Marvin wheeling Hayley’s expensive suitcase as they approached the door to the penthouse suite.  Hayley fed her keycard into the slot and pushed open the door. As the portal eased open, a loud chorus of effeminate moans and groans could be heard from within, and with the door ajar Marvin caught a glimpse of what was going on inside.  A mass of toned and sweat-shined feminine bodys were intertwined atop the plush leather sofas; a multitude of long, brightly coloured sex toys penetrating vaginas and assholes alike as some kind of wild, all-star orgy was in full flow inside the luxury suite. 

Marvin’s eyes bulged as he watched the celebrity fuckfest unfold; a rampant band of world famous actresses and chart topping singers dildoing one another to a series of violent, cum-spraying orgasms.  Hayley stopped in the doorway, taking her luggage from Marvin as he gawked listlessly at the A-list orgy unfolding beyond.

“Thanks for the help, handsome,” she said, giving him a light pat on the cheek.  “Now run along,” she added. “Nothing to see here!”

End of Chapter 13
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Re: Taylor's Southern Soirée (Taylor Swift, Carrie Underwood and co.)
« Reply #14 on: March 12, 2019, 02:48:46 PM »
Chapter 14

Starring: Taylor Swift, Selena Gomez, Hailee Steinfeld, Miley Cyrus, Elle Fanning, Chloe Moretz, Carrie Underwood, Jana Kramer, Cassadee Pope, Maren Morris and Hayley Williams

Hayley Williams wheeled her suitcase into the luxury penthouse suite, finding her band of celebrity gal pals in a number of compromising positions atop the plush leather sofas.  Elle Fanning was sprawled out on her back; the bejewelled tip of a metal buttplug poking out from her tight pink asshole, while she held a huge vibrating wand to her clit. Laid out beside her was Selena Gomez; the lusty latina rubbing her pulsing bud while Jana Kramer drilled her butthole with a thick black strap on. 

Carrie Underwood was laid back on the adjacent couch; her legs spread as far apart as her intense yoga training would allow, while Miley Cyrus sat next to her, fingerfucking the country slut’s sopping wet cunt like there was no tomorrow.  Beside them, Hailee Steinfeld and Cassadee Pope were knelt ass to ass; their peachy, round butts clattering together as they anally shared a long double ended dildo.

Hayley closed the door behind her.  She stood before the swirling mass of sweaty, naked bodies; sex toys of all shapes, sizes and colours probing every orifice imaginable, a loud refrain of orgasmic moans and screams filling the expanse of the room.

“Ahem,” she said, clearing her throat as she lingered by the doorway.

There was no response.  The chorus of coos and groans, not to mention the loud din of an army of vibrators all buzzing at once drowned out her subtle utterance.

“Ahem!” she repeated, louder this time, but still to no avail.

“AHEM!” she sounded a third time, this time drawing a few turned heads from the gang of horny celebs fucking each other rampantly in the centre of the room.

Taylor Swift looked up from between her thighs, where Maren Morris was tonguing wildly at her swollen clit.

“Hayley!” she exclaimed excitedly.  “You made it!”

“Mmhmm,” Hayley grinned in response.  “Though it looks like you got started without me,” she added, shedding her clothes as she marched valiantly toward the five piece suite.  She grabbed a big flesh coloured strap on from the glass coffee table and held it aloft. “I think I’m gonna have to make you pay for that!”

And so the orgy raged on.  The girls were gathered at the five piece suite, fingering, fucking and dildoing each other to a string of powerful ogasms; spraying gallon after gallon of squirt fluids across the table at one another like some kind of perverse water fight.  Chloe Moretz was laid back atop a comfy leather sofa; the blonde actress exhibiting all the suppleness and flexibility of an Olympic gymnast as she tucked her expensive stiletto heels behind her ears. Carrie Underwood was knelt beside her; plundering Chloe’s tight little anus with a long purple dildo, the fair-haired starlet violently strumming her clit until she squirted like a firehose over those on the adjacent couch. 

Meanwhile, Elle Fanning was holding a large vibrating wand to Jana Kramer’s throbbing pink clit; the country singer fingerfucking her asshole as she sprayed her girlcum like a top of the range Super Soaker.  Maren Morris was sat with her legs akimbo; the randy brunette holding a bullet vibrator to her clit as Selena Gomez fed a string of thick pink anal beads into her ass. Cassadee Pope was sat in a plush leather armchair; a bright purple dildo strapped to her waist, gripping Miley Cyrus’ shapely round ass as she bounced up and down on the big plastic prick. 

And on and on it went.  The girls used every kind of marital aid on God’s green earth to stimulate any clit or fuck any orifice within spitting distance.  Actresses, country and pop singers alike blasted their lady loads across the penthouse suite as they were brought to orgasm by a whole host of exotic plastic toys.  The ladies were dripping from head to toe as load after load of effeminate squirt juice sprayed across their hot nude bodies; their expensively styled hair wet and matted with a cocktail of sweat and girlcum.

Taylor Swift found herself on all fours in the doggystyle position, with her good pal Hayley Williams knelt behind her.  Hayley had two handfuls of Taylor’s hair; the punk singer using the silky blonde locks as reigns while she ploughed her friend’s snug little asshole with her big flesh-toned strap on.  Carrie Underwood had assumed the face down, ass up position. Her ripe, peachy butt was thrust out invitingly for Hailee Steinfeld; the horny brunette feeding the girth of a thick black buttplug into her asshole.

Elle Fanning and Selena Gomez were laid out facing one another across a long leather couch; the randy duo bucking and grinding up and down the length of a pink double ended dildo.  They kneaded their pulsing clits; the lusty starlets hosing each other down with blasts of juicy girlspunk. Next, they fed the two ends of the double headed fucktoy into their mouths; sucking them down until their twin sets of glossy pink lips met in the middle. 

The all-girl orgy continued long into the afternoon; the A-list sluts frigging and fucking one another to countless orgasms, each more thunderous and brutal than the last.  With the last climax achieved and the last ounce of girlcum sprayed, the ladies collapsed into a heap of nude, sweat shined bodies; every last speck of energy fucked out of their athletic, muscletoned frames.   

As she lay, cradling Chloe Moretz’s worn out frame in her slender, bicep-laden arms, Carrie Underwood heard her cellphone buzz on the small glass table at her side.  She reached for the phone and read her new text message.

“Ooo, ladies!” she exclaimed, leaping up excitedly with renewed vim and vigor.  “We better get ready, the boys will be here shortly. And trust me, girls,” she went on, grinning mischievously as she addressed the room at large, “you’re gonna want to get your energy back!”

End of Chapter 14
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