Author's Notes: As is usual to state on Literotica, in case it is not clear enough from the story itself, all characters participating in sexual acts occurring in this story are at least 18 years of age.
Please, don't forget to comment, rate and if you like it, favorite the story. Constructive critique and feedback are always welcomed.
***
The crowd was going wild in their seats. It was Camila Cabello's best concert in a long time, and everyone seemed to know it and enjoy being able to watch it live. Encore followed encore as the wild fans got exactly what they wanted and more.
Logan Blackwood was just one of those crazy fans enjoying their superstar's generosity and a wish to spoil her fans for all that they've done for her. However, in his case, he was about to get much more from his idol than anyone here would ever dare to imagine.
His realistic expectations and normal-sized ego prevented him from thinking that when she had pointed into the audience seemingly straight at him, she was truly pointing at him. She, however, was doing just that, as the staff member currently crawling on the ground and making his way through the various seats to Logan's one very much proved by his actions.
When the staff member slammed the post-it note he was carrying on the underside of logan's seat, the young hunk did feel something strange, but when he looked down, the quick-moving staffer was already gone.
Receiving the signal that everything was ready to go, Camila finished the song she was now singing and spoke to her audience.
"Thank you all so much my loves! You have no idea how much I love all of you and how much I appreciate that you're always there for me. You know that I'd love to keep spoiling you with encores, buuut..." she teasingly said, making it clear that following that elongated, "but," was going to be something even better than encores could be. "You guys deserve something much better to end this show with. So, as one of America's greatest stars might do, look under your seats and see what you have there!" she enthusiastically announced.
When they did so, the fans went crazy. For a good reason. Just as if they were the audience on Oprah's show, when they looked under their seats, they found sweet, if a little small considering how many of them had to be created, stacks of cash glued to the chairs.
What was under their seats were almost all of the profits made from the tour this concert was the last part of, specifically, almost all of the profits that weren't already used to pay off the people who worked to make this show happen in the first place.
This, for Camila, was one of the best parts of being a multimillionaire celebrity. She already had everything she could possibly want! With her life being what it was, she could easily throw around a few million in a day like this, especially when what she actually wanted had nothing to do with any of that money.
Indeed, what, or better said, who she wanted, was currently looking at the pink sticky note hastily attached to the stack of cash he had on the underside of his seat, and the message that was written on it in red.
"Come backstage to meet me hunky boy, XOXO."
*
When the show had come to a close, Logan did exactly as he was told on the note. About half of the other fans were already gone while the remaining half was just about to disappear as well, so, it was a surprisingly quick walk to the backstage, with no random lines to wait in for anything.
For a couple of moments, he had fully expected the staff members to at least try to stop him when it became clear where he was making his way to, but when no one so much as batted an eye on him, he finally realized that, yes, he truly was wanted and this wasn't just some weird dream of his.
Finally, he found the door he was looking for.
"Come in! The door's open!" she called out at him from her private room, aware of his presence before he had even knocked or otherwise announced himself.
With an amused look on his face, Logan looked at the camera on the top of the wall next to him, before opening the door and stepping in.
There she was, the superstar he had been passionately following for the last couple of years, still dressed in that shiny dress she wore on stage.
"Ah, there you are! Finally, I was getting a bit worried," she welcomed him as she jumped to her feet and started walking towards him, arms outstretched and ready to hug him while he just pinched himself to once again convince himself that this wasn't a dream. "What's your name by the way? We were so focused on everything else that we forgot to check that," the Cuban beauty said.
"Erm, Logan Blackwood," he shyly replied, unsure of what to do in this situation.
"Nice to meet you Logan, you probably know who I am, right?" she sarcastically asked.
"The best woman on the face of the planet," he half-jokingly replied, some of his self-confidence returning to him.
"Ahh, don't be so rash, I don't think your mom would've liked to hear something like that."
"She agrees, we're both huge fans," he replied matter-of-factly. "Unfortunately, she had to work today."
"Mmmm," the singer replied, her caramel eyes scanning his tall body as she did so. "I see."
Somewhat uncomfortable at being checked out like this, he took a small step backward, before completely freezing and realizing that he was utterly clueless as to how to act in this situation.
OK, this was truly happening. He had already established that multiple times. She truly called him in here, to meet with her alone, while calling him "hunky boy" in that note. Not that that was the first time any woman had called him something like that, nor was this the first time a woman had asked him out or arranged a meeting with him alone to seduce him... but those were
normal
women.
This, on the other hand, was Camila Cabello. An international Latina superstar with a beautiful face and gorgeous body, looking at him with her big, caramel eyes and pretty much undressing him with them already. He could feel his heartbeat in his ears and his cock was throbbing, but just to be completely sure, he decided to remain passive for just a couple of moments more.
"So, why am I here?" he innocently asked.
"Because I called you and you were a good boy that obeyed what I said," she immediately replied, licking her lips after doing so.
"Yeah, I get that," he said and this time, for a change, took two steps forward, staring at her nice breasts, beautifully revealed and enhanced by the near-see-through dress she wore, the entire time.
"What can I say? Even stars are human. A lot of us periodically cry about it in front of the media whenever they decide to step from the public eye for a while, or at least claim that they want to do so," she started explaining. "I'm just a young woman at the end of the day. Is it that bad that when I see a hot, cute young hunk, my first instinct is to have my staff sneakily invite him to meet me, so hopefully... I can bang the absolute shit out of him until my pussy is beyond satisfied and he can barely move?"
"Not at all," he absentmindedly replied, his gaze switching between her beautiful cleavage and pretty eyes.
"You aren't underage, are you?" she urgently asked. "Just to be sure."
"I'm twenty-one," he replied.
"Nice, I love younger guys," the singer replied with a smile on her face and glitter in her eye, prompting him to smile as well. "So, that's it. I'm completely transparent with you..."
"You sure are," he interrupted her, checking out her body clad in that barely-existing, glittering dress that she wore just as she checked out his body at the beginning.
"Indeed. You know what I want, and I'm pretty sure we both know what you want as well," she said as she started undressing, the sight of her doing so making him visibly jerk as his body skipped a beat. "Are we going to fuck or not?" she said as her dress hit the floor, fully revealing her shapely, tanned body to him.
The response she had gotten from him was a mouthed, "Oh, fuck," followed by him undressing even quicker than she did. She barely registered what was happening before he was completely naked and the only thing she could look at was the thick, hard, throbbing cock attached to the very well-sculpted athletic young body in front of her.
"Tan grande..." she said to herself. "Those jeans must've been crushing you. Let me make sure you're OK."
