Victoria Justice

These are my stories which are also published elsewhere.

*****

"Next please," I said on auto pilot from my spot at the till.

I looked up to be greeted by instantly recognisable brown eyes and dark hair, blurting out, "Victoria!" before I'd even realised what I'd done.

In front of me stood Victoria Justice. Now, considering I was a 30 year old British man, working in a clothes store in London, I probably shouldn't even have known who she was. I definitely shouldn't have said anything. But I'm a guy who likes to look at pretty women online, someone who occasionally likes to jerk off to beautiful clothed women as well as slutty porn stars fucking, someone with a surprisingly in-depth knowledge of young, gorgeous, female celebrities.

In that moment of shock, I ended up speaking before my brain had engaged fully, and now I was embarrassed.

Seeing her, in the flesh, two feet away, was overwhelming.

God she's even prettier in real life! I thought like I was a teenage girl obsessing over her first crush. In my defence, she just looked so much more special than everyone else. Her long brown hair, straight and lustrous. Her teeth white and gleaming, her makeup perfectly applied, so as to be almost invisible. Her clothes were the expensive kind of casual, everything fitted for the slim, toned young body they were wrapped around. In short, she looked Hollywood - all except for the bored look on her face.

I felt embarrassed for saying anything and she didn't look impressed either - which just made me more nervous.

"I...I'm a big fan," I stammered, as some sort of justification.

Like a switch had been turned on, her expression changed. She almost instantly began smiling, looked me right in the eye - it's hard to hold eye contact with someone that pretty - and turned towards me. You know when you hear of actors who seem to always be 'on'? I imagined that was what this was - she was putting on her public persona.

"Oh really? What's your favourite song?"

If it was an act, it was a convincing one. She seemed genuinely attentive and interested. The effect was intoxicating, and I forgot I was even asked a question. Martin, my neighbour at the next till and long-time friend, nudged me in the ribs.

"Go on John, what's your favourite song?" he asked, the amusement clear in his voice.

I'll be honest, I was only ever dimly aware that Victoria Justice was a singer, or that she did anything beyond getting photographed in nice dresses.

"I, um...they're all so good," I said unconvincingly, but she seemed to find that answer incredibly joyous - her smile widened.

"John is more like one of those fans who likes to look, if you know what I mean," said Martin, cutting in.

I elbowed him out of the way even as he made the 'wanking' gesture with his hand.

I didn't seem to bother Victoria though.

"Oh, do you think I'm pretty?" she stepped back from the till, as if to give me a look, and stood straight, presenting herself to me. She actually looked apprehensive.

"Beautiful," I gasped. This conversation was turning surreal. She definitely liked that answer and came forward again, leaning over the till. The clothes she was meant to be buying were long forgotten. As she leaned in, she looked up at me, through her lashes.

"Sexy too?" she asked, seeming desperate for an answer. At that moment there was nobody else in the room, no room at all - just her deep brown eyes, her red lips and the loud beating of my heart.

"Yes!" I said, forgetting where I was.

"How often do you masturbate to me?" she said, her voice still needy.

"I...er..." I said, not sure how honest to be. That pause was enough for me to remember where I was, what I was meant to be doing, "Never!"

She looked crestfallen, "Never? But I thought you said-"

"Look, I'm not really a fan, to be honest, I just said that..."

Now she looked actually broken, by my words.

"Dude!" whispered Martin alongside me, "A bit harsh don't you think?"

Harsh? I was being pretty honest really.

An anguished wail of, "No!" jolted me and everyone else into looking at Victoria, who'd seemed to have physically collapsed against the counter. She still only had eyes for me though.

"Why? What did I do?" she desperately asked.

I looked up from her to see the eyes of the entire shop trained on us, then back down at her sorrowful expression. At that moment my manager was alongside me.

"Look," hissed Sheila, quietly so only I could hear, "I get that she's famous so I'll ignore that you're doing this when you're meant to be working. Next time you want to fanboy over someone, do it in your own time!"

"But-"

"I'll take over your till, just take your lunch hour early, ok? And make sure you're done by the time you get back."

I knew it was useless to argue, stepped aside and walked out from the counter. I could see Victoria's big brown eyes following me and she moved to intercept me on the shop floor. This was getting really fucking strange. Behind me, Sheila called up the next customer.

"What did I do?" Victoria implored.

Standing in front of her, a foot away, she looked larger than I imagined - still remarkably lean but not short enough to be petite, or tall enough to be statuesque. She was many inches below my own height, but it was still alarming when she grabbed the front of my staff t-shirt with both hands and cried, "Please, I need you!"

"Miss Justice," I said, suddenly in professional mode and realising how ridiculous this sounded, "How about we move somewhere more private? People are looking."

"But...ok, whatever you want," she said glumly. I gestured towards the back of the store and she took my meaning, walking in front of me to a quieter end where women's underwear was stocked.

I definitely took the opportunity to admire her ass moving in her tight jeans. Ok, she might not match up to some others in that department but a hot 26 year old's ass is still a hot 26 year old's ass.

She stopped by a pillar and this time took my hand, grasping it tightly. He voice was near breaking,

"Look, please...what do I need to do?"

I was quickly realising the although I'd never heard about this before, Victoria Justice was obviously a bit unstable. Hot and unstable could make for an attractive combination but I wanted to be kind to her while I tried to figure out how bad she was.

"You don't need to do anything Miss Justice, please. You're great!"

"Call me Victoria please. But...you're not a fan? I need my fans," she had my hand in both of hers now, repeatedly tugging it towards her in a slightly impotent gesture, "Don't you see? This is my life!"

"I...look, I'm just not that familiar with your music, ok?"

"What about my acting?"

Ah, yes - I had heard she was in tv...or maybe movies?

"I haven't seen anything you've been in...yet! But I'm sure it's great," I tried to placate her.

She looked glum though for a second. Then she looked up at me, as though realising something,

"But you like the way I look right? That's what you said?"

"I er...I meant...I mean..." being confronted this closely with a stranger who've you've happened to have wanked over many, many times, and trying to tell her you find her attractive without it seeming - to either of you - very, very creepy, is not easy.

"You're...very beautiful," I said lamely.

"So are you a fan of my looks?" she was excited now, pulling me a step closer and again looking up at me, looking for approval.

It had been a year since my last girlfriend and other than a handful of one night stands, it had mostly been my hand for company. Here was the most gorgeous woman I'd ever seen in the flesh, constantly touching me and standing far closer than was polite, talking like what she wanted most in the world was my desire.

As bizarre as this whole thing was, it was also incredibly arousing.

"I guess I am, yeah."

"Yes!" she squealed and hugged me, arms thrown around my neck, "Thank you! I really appreciate it!"

She had the unfettered genuine enthusiasm of an anime character. Even when she stopped hugging me, she only stepped back a little, her hands still cradled round the back of my neck. I wasn't just imagining it now, she was either coming on to me or was extremely over-familiar with all her fans.

"I want to be better though, you know?" she said hurriedly, "Like what I'm wearing today, is this ok?"

She turned and did a quick spin and I looked her up and down even before I thought about how weird it was.

She'd paired a simple dark, red, long-sleeved top with a few buttons running down from its high neck, with indigo jeans that stuck to her legs. They ran down to black, heeled ankle boots. It was all simple and classy.

"Lovely," I said.

"What could be better?" she asked.

I really wasn't going to get out of this easily, I realised.

"Should I..." she unbuttoned a couple of the buttons on her top and widened the opening, "...try to be sexier?"

It didn't really show much more than a round-necked t-shirt would but the actual act was sexy. Confusing too. What was going on?

"Sure, if you want?" I said. I looked around, half wondering if people were watching, half wondering if I could get help. No-one was paying us any attention though.

"What about photoshoots?" she looked around at the underwear racks, "I've never really done anything too racy you know? Like maybe I could do something with lingerie?"

She picked up a matching set of lacy bra and knickers, "Do you think I'd look good in this?"

My mouth was getting very dry as I imagined her olive skin barely hidden by the wispy cloth she was holding.

"Hmm mm," I nodded.

"Do you think you'd masturbate to me then?" she suddenly stepped forward, her hand dropping low. Before I could stop her it was pressed, palm forward, onto my crotch.

I froze. She was actually groping me, in public - she could easily feel my semi-hard dick rapidly becoming erect. I daren't move or say anything. Technically I suppose she was sexually assaulting me but neither my brain or body at the time saw it that way.

"Oh, I think you would!" she softly laughed but in a way that didn't sound demeaning to me - she was delighted, "What if I took care of it right now? Would you like that?"

Anyone could see us. We should stop. She should stop. She definitely shouldn't be unzipping me, definitely shouldn't be reaching through the flap in my boxers and...oh the warmth of her hand.

Victoria Justice gently pulled my hard cock out into the open.

"Oh it's beautiful!" she gasped, "And all for me?" she looked up but I didn't have an answer for her.

I think I'd died. She began stroking it before suddenly bending down and then it happened - she planted a kiss along the shaft. My cock twitched in response.

"Oh! You really do like me don't you?!"

I looked down and my loser dick was being caressed, stroked and yes, now licked, by a woman I'd fantasised about many times. A woman that many people had fantasised about. A young talented - I assume? - women bent at the waist like a pornstar, treating my cock like it was the most precious treat, in full view of the public.

And that's when it hit me.

I'm dreaming! This is a dream! I can do what I like!

"Suck it!" I croaked, finally working up the nerve, "Please!"

I knew I wasn't going to last long but, real or not, I needed to feel her mouth around me, at least before I exploded and woke up.

"Of course," she smiled and then enveloped me with her mouth. I couldn't help but groan as her lips touched the head and she held it, just inside her mouth as I got over my initial reaction. Good, I wasn't going to cum right away. Her tongue began slowly moving against it and I gasped in response. Without letting me slip out of her warm, wet, cavity, she began curling forwards into a kneeling position in front of me.

"Holy shit," I blurted at the vision in front of me, and she briefly grinned, her teeth lightly nipping my shaft as she did, with a pleasant sting.

Her hand began lightly tracing along my dick as she licked and slurped me, her beautiful eyes looking up into mine. Then, sure she had my undivided attention, she froze.

After a beat she suddenly took me half-way down and began bobbing her head back and forth. Plenty of saliva coated my shaft and her tongue feverishly worked around it. Victoria Justice definitely knew how to give head. I was in heaven.

Since this was a dream I saw no reason not to bring my hands up to the back of her head and, after tousling her gorgeous silky hair between my finger, I began gently - so I thought - nudging her head back and forth a little harder. A frown briefly creased her brow but when I moaned in delight it quickly disappeared. I could start to feel her throat catching on my invading cock...this dream wasn't gonna last much longer.

"Oh my god!" exclaimed a woman's voice from nearby.

I looked to my right to see a 30-something blonde, top-heavy in a good way, looking right at us, eyes wide. She hurriedly walked over and - dream or no dream - I'd frozen in panic. Victoria was still diligently sucking my cock, slurping and bobbing even as we were suddenly not alone.

"You're Victoria Justice!" the woman said with an American twang in her accent, not giving me even a glance.

She didn't seem the slightest bit perturbed by the scene in front of her. Victoria nodded but still didn't stop. If anything, she looked slightly annoyed, although it can be hard to read the expression of a woman with a dick halfway down her mouth. For example, her eyes were tearing up too, but I'm sure that was due to my shaft trying to edge down her throat rather than any upset on her part.

"My daughter is such a huge fan!" carried on the blonde.

If I'd been close to cumming before, that wasn't gonna happen now.

"Do you think I could get a picture? I mean, when you've finished with him of course," she finally looked at me now, "So sorry to interrupt, you understand right? You're a fan."

I could tell it was an insincere apology.

"You know," I gestured downwards, "If you want her to hurry up you could always get down there and help out," I said, winking at the blonde.

If this was gonna be a porn movie dream I should make the most of it.

"Excuse me?!" she suddenly shouted, shocked and indignant, "Don't you actually work here? You sick fucking pig!"

Blondie stormed off and thankfully Victoria and I were alone - semi-alone - again.

She finally pulled back from my dick and stroked its wet length, "Sorry," she said, "Happens all the time."

"It's ok," I cooed while not so gently pushing her head forwards.

She took the hint and I was cocooned back within her welcoming mouth. The blonde brat might have taken the edge off, but I wasn't interested in making it last now.

Both my hands grabbed Victoria's head now and as she looked up with puppy dog eyes, I began doing something I'd only seen in porn. She didn't need to move as I began thrusting into her mouth, battering against her throat with my dick and each time getting a little further into its tight constriction. I didn't ask or even stop to consider it - this was my wet-dream after all. To her credit she only slightly gagged. Sure, her watery eyes gave away her discomfort but still tried, mostly in vain, to hold my gaze.

Anyway, I was face-fucking Victoria Justice. I was only half looking at her, most of the time my gaze was now out of focus as I thrust harder and harder into that heavenly hole, blood roaring in my head, my grip tightening until, with a grunt, I was unloading the largest load of cum straight down her throat.

For seconds I twitched and moaned, her pampered head held tight to my crotch as a I ground out every bit of jizz into her, until I was done.

I fell back, closing my eyes, waiting to wake up.

Instead, a voice broke my reverie.

"John, this customer says you asked her to engage in a sex act?"

It was Sheila, standing over me, with blonde woman from before stood alongside. Blondie was nodding vigorously. Neither seemed the slightest bit perturbed by my wet, now softening cock poking out of my pants, or by Victoria Justice coughing and spluttering nearby.

I, however, was very disturbed. Why wasn't I awake? I was expecting to be lying in bed with some rather sticky underwear but instead of leaving the dream I actually felt more awake than ever. It was as though some dormant part of my mind had woken up and I had new senses.

"Well?!" demanded Sheila, bringing me back to the present.

"Er, yeah, sure, the bitch was being annoying and I made a suggestion..." I explained.

"Right, that's it. It's bad enough you bothering celebrities during work hours - with your uniform on too! That was unprofessional but this is ridiculous. I don't know what's gotten into you but I'm gonna have to ask you to leave."

I staggered up, tucking away little John as I did and half nodded, "Sure," before walking out.

The bright afternoon sun hit me in a daze as I tried to make sense of what was going on. For a start, this didn't seem to be a dream any more. Maybe I was on drugs? My heightened senses would be explained by that.

I could feel...I'm not sure 'feel' is the right word but whatever you want to call it, I could sense these pulses all around me. The largest was now behind me and I found, once I cleared my head some more, I could focus on it with thought alone. Once I did it quickly resolved itself into a pulse I recognised as Victoria, slowly climbing off the floor.

Here's the thing though - I hadn't turned to observe this with my eyes. This new sense was just feeding me that information. I stayed focused on her and felt her signing an autograph, having her picture taken. Probably with that annoying customer.

Focusing outward there was a constant noise of similar pulses, some near, some far. They weren't the same size either, but I could still tell, even if they were far away, how big they were.

It was kinda like how you can tell the difference from a whisper that is loud because it's near and an explosion that's soft because it's distant.

Most of the pulses were stationary but others moved at different speeds. One was moving quite quickly, in a stop start manner. It was noticeable because it was near and getting nearer. I focused on it but although it seemed to become sharper - if that's the word - I learned nothing.

Instinctively I walked towards it, trying to find out more. I wasn't even really aware of myself stepping off the pavement, or the horns of cars or the annoyed shouting. It was nearly at me and I needed to find our more.

Still focusing, I got bits of pieces about the owner of this pulse. It...she...was British. A tv celebrity, not huge, not Z-list. She was...blonde. Looking back now, I wonder if this is what mediums feel when they 'sense' the dead, details slowly coming to them as they get nearer. Well, if mediums weren't complete bullshit.

"Oi!" shouted a driver as I found myself in the road, on a busy high street, holding up traffic.

It was a black cab, the cabbie leaning out of his window and angry. I was still not quite realising how stupid and reckless I was being though, as I could feel the pulse from behind him. The passenger in the back.

I focused my mind once more and it resolved itself into a clear identity. I stepped to one side, enough for the taxi to slowly squeeze past. Looking through the window I saw the face I expected looking back, confirming my sense was right.