Britney's Caterer

Is is in no way meant to defame Britney Spears’s name or her character, or say she has done any of these things. It’s a complete fantasy, based loosely on my life.

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It must have been nearly 4:00 am by the time Britney and I managed to stop playing and talking and finally get to sleep. The energy level in her hotel suite had been too high for us to be able to calm down any sooner. We were both absorbed in the past night’s discoveries. Before our chance meeting backstage at her concert where I was working, neither of us had explored what it could feel like to be with another woman, neither physically nor emotionally. But that night had been fateful. In just a matter of hours, I had gone from being a lonely single girl too immersed in college to bother with dating to waking up with Britney Spears in my arms.

“What the Hell happened?” I said to myself, admiring the view revealed to me by the blanket having slid off in the night. Britney was curled up next to me, still nude from our escapades of that night, and using my arm as a pillow. No wonder I couldn’t feel my hand. My thoughts had woken me up fully, and the fact that I had no use of my left arm was really starting to bother me, especially since I was craving a shower in that awesome penthouse bathroom that had a massaging showerhead. I needed it after my long night at work, and even longer night in bed. I slid my arm out from under her gently so not to disturb her and stood up, pulling my robe on when I felt a hand on my waist.

“Don’t leave.”

I smiled and patted her hand. She didn’t want me to go. To be honest, I didn’t want to leave either.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere. I’m just going to go have a shower. Thought I’d take you out for breakfast this morning. Might as well be outside and get some fresh air, hmm?” I leaned down to kiss her before leaving. “By the way, good morning, beautiful.”

“Mmm, good morning,” she said as she rolled over to go back to sleep.

I left her to sleep, as she surely needed it more than I did. She got twice the workout I did – our time spent in bed last night in addition to her 2-hour concert earlier that night. “I don’t know where she gets her energy,” I thought as I closed the bathroom door behind me and stepped in to relax under the oh-so-inviting massaging shower.

However, when the water hit my shoulders, searing pain shot through my skin. I jumped away from the water, turning to look at my back in the reflection of the shower’s glass door. I hadn’t even felt it happening, but my shoulders were covered in deep scratches. I couldn’t help but smile. “Battle wounds,” I thought. They stung and felt as if they were on fire, but I didn’t mind.

I had just finished rinsing my hair when I felt the telltale blast of cold air hit my back as the bathroom door opened. I focused on rinsing out my hair, assuming Britney was up to use the restroom and I did not intend to make her feel uncomfortable. However, I was pleasantly shocked when a second gust of cold air hit my back, followed by a set of warm hands. I shivered, but was it from the cool air or her electric touch? Probably a bit of both.

“I thought you were going back to sleep?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“I was going to, until I realized you were on the other side of that door, in my shower,” Britney answered. I felt her hands on my shoulders, her fingers grazing the cuts spreading across my skin. “Oh, Amber look at your back, I didn’t realize I was hurting you, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it; it was well worth the abuse.”

She laughed. “Yes, I suppose it was, wasn’t it?”

“Thinking a bit highly of yourself, are you?” I retorted, smiling over my shoulder so she knew I was joking.

“Well you didn’t seem to complain, I was just assuming…” Her voice trailed off as her hands slid down my back and around my waist. I felt her body pressed to mine, the sheer feeling of her skin set off fireworks behind my eyes. She kissed my neck before turning me to face her. God, she was beautiful. Our lips met, as did our tongues, and I know we both saw the fireworks.

I had just lost myself in her kiss when her hand had moved off my waist and between my thighs. No sooner had I taken my mouth of hers to tell her she didn’t have to, than she had slid her middle finger into my pussy.

“Fuck it,” I said, referring to my leaving behind intentions of behaving, but I saw it in her eyes that she interpreted it differently. She covered my lips with hers before I could protest. I pulled her tongue into my mouth with my own, sucking on it before letting it go to relax under her touch.

She brought me off fast. It wasn’t the blinding orgasm like I’d had last night, but it was intense, brought on from the sudden, rough stimulation of the palm of her hand pressing against my clit and her fingers fucking me. I pulled my lips off hers and fell back against the wall of the shower, catching my breath, and opened my eyes to see her looking right at me.

“You like?” she asked, a bit unnecessarily.

“You didn’t have to do that, that was selfish of me.” I really did feel bad, because I had no intention of returning the favor immediately.

“Selfish? Babe I owe you after last night, and I owe you more than that. I was the one who’s been more than selfish. I’ve never felt like I felt last night. It was so amazing.”

She was right, it WAS amazing. I laughed. “You thought you were being selfish? I think I was. I didn’t want to let you get away after waiting so long to have you to myself like that.” I straightened up and rinsed myself off once more, leaving her to take her own shower.

It wasn’t until I walked back into the bedroom that I realized I had no clothes to put on, save for those I had worn last night, and I couldn’t even find my shirt amongst the tangle of our clothes and the bedding. Hell, the maid probably took it with the rest of the linens last night. Chances are it had been tangled in the sheets.

I did find my jeans under the edge of the bed, though, and pulled them on. I hadn’t gone without wearing panties under my jeans for so long, I’d forgotten how free and erotic it felt. I put my bra back on as well, but the fact that I had no shirt to wear was still bothering me.

Deciding Britney wouldn’t care if I borrowed one of her shirts until I had my own, I pulled open her closet to find something to wear. I flipped through the hangers of too-tight tees and low-rise jeans until I found a sweatshirt that wouldn’t be two sizes too small for me, looking in the mirror on the back of the closet door. “Louisiana State University? You really can’t take the South out of the girl,” I said aloud, reading the front of the sweatshirt.

“No, you definitely can’t.”

I turned around to see Britney standing in the doorway with a towel wrapped around her body, her hands on her hips in mock anger. “Suuuure Amber, of course you can borrow something to wear, help yourself!” she laughed.

“Haha, yeah, sorry ‘bout that.” I know I looked a bit sheepish, getting caught taking something of hers. “But I guess housekeeping got my shirt by accident last night, I can’t find it anywhere and I’m not about to go outside in nothing but jeans and a bra.”

“No, I don’t suppose so. Though you wouldn’t hear me complaining,” she said, smiling.

“You can have it back when I get a chance to change later. I promise I won’t steal it.”

“Oh! Nah don’t worry about it, I got a bunch at home just like it. You can keep it. Think of it as…a souvenir.”

I crossed the walk-in closet and lifted her chin up, kissing her full on the mouth. “Thanks babe, whenever I wear it, I’ll think of you,” I said as my fingers found the edge of her towel that was tucked in to keep it in place and pulled it off before she could protest.

“Hey!” she yelled once I pulled it away. She crossed her arms over her chest, as if she had anything to hide from me. Ha!

“Get dressed, I’m hungry,” I said as I walked past her, stopping to slap her bare ass playfully. “God, what an ass.” Apparently, I said that out loud, against my intentions.

“Excuse me?” Britney asked.

I thought a moment, buying time by putting my shoes on. “You heard me.”

“Yes, I did hear you. And if you’re so hungry, why am I getting dressed?”

I turned to reply, but stopped short. She still wasn’t dressed, and had posed against the doorway, no longer concealing her breasts.

“I said, why get dressed, if you’re hungry? Get over here.”

I stood up and walked over to her, holding her gaze as I crossed the room. I stopped in front of her, our faces no more than an inch apart. “Get dressed,” I said, and spun on my heel to sit down at the table and read a magazine. I heard Britney groan in frustration and glanced over my shoulder, watching her pout as she got dressed.

“That’s not very fair you know!” she yelled from the closet.

“What’s not fair?” I asked innocently.

“Teasing me like that, walking away when you know damn well what I want.” She was trying to be firm about her statement, but I heard her voice trying to waver into a whine.

“Well honey, life’s not always fair,” I retorted, enjoying this futile power struggle she was trying to win. “Now get dressed or I’m leaving.”

“Fine!”

A few minutes later she appeared next to me, fully clothed, or as fully clothed as Britney Spears can get, her midriff showing as usual. I looked up from my reading. “You look great babe,” I said, tracing my finger around the piercing through her navel, “but this is autumn in the Midwest, you are going to freeze that ass off this morning, and I’d hate to see that happen.”

“I’ll grab a jacket on the way out. Let’s go since you’re in such a hurry to leave.”

We passed Raymond, one of Britney’s security guards, in the hallway, still at his post from the night before. He gave us a knowing wink as we stepped into the elevator hand-in-hand. “You girls behave, don’t get into any trouble out there!”

“We won’t!” we said in unison, both of us laughing at our simultaneous reply.

To our dismay, even more paparazzi were waiting outside the hotel entrance than there were the night before. As soon as Britney stepped out of the elevator holding my hand, the cameras started snapping. We did our best to push our way through them and got back into my car, speeding out of the parking lot to make sure we lost them before they could get into their vehicles.

“Ugh, you have to deal with that EVERY day?” I asked Britney, severely annoyed by the two short encounters I’d had with paparazzi while with her.

“Yeah, it’s a fucking pain in the ass, but I can’t really do anything about it, so I just deal with it,” she said, looking behind us to see if we were being followed. We weren’t.

I decided to take Britney out for a proper Midwestern breakfast at a local truck stop that I had been eating at for years. We pulled in and Britney told me to wait a minute before getting out, a trick to see if anyone had managed to follow us. No one pulled in behind us.

We walked into Gramma Sharon’s, the best truck stop west of the Mississippi, and picked a booth in the far corner of the restaurant. Tina came up with our menus as soon as we sat down. “Amber! Long time no see! Where have you been?”

“Busy with school and work, as usual!”

“Ah well, ain’t that the way life goes sometimes.” I saw Tina’s eyes glance back at my companion. “Amber don’t be rude, who’s your guest? I don’t think I’ve seen her in here before.”

I realized Britney had neglected to take off her sunglasses. I never understood that. A person wearing sunglasses INSIDE a building draws more attention than not wearing them at all. Satisfying my opinion, I reached across the table and pulled off her sunglasses. “Tina, Britney. Britney, this is Tina.”

Britney smiled politely and nodded, but I felt a kick in my shin under the table. I countered with a “Who the fuck cares?” glare, and I saw her tense up a moment before relaxing.

Tina thought a moment before proceeding, “Well well! I read the paper this morning. That was you in those pictures?”

I checked with Britney before responding, she nodded. “Yeah. I was catering for her show last night and neither of us felt like sitting around all night, so we went out for a drink.” Keep it simple, I thought. Tina seemed to accept the explanation and left us to decide on our breakfast.

Over our meal, we worked out some ground rules. If people were going to see us together, in person and in the papers, we needed to answer the inevitable questions. We agreed that my previous answer about going out for a drink after her concert and hitting it off well as friends would be our story – and it wasn’t at all false, just not completely true.

I picked up the tab, as I had promised. Surprisingly no one had tipped the press off of Britney’s presence in the restaurant. No photographers were waiting outside the doors, as we had been expecting. Apparently, this was quite the relief to Britney. As I walked her to the passenger side to open her door in a bit of mock chivalry, she grabbed my jeans by the belt loops and pulled me close, slipping her tongue past my lips and into a passionate kiss.

“Smile, Britney!”

We were jolted apart from our kiss, both of us turning to find the intruding voice. Then we heard the sound of a camera shutter, and another, then another. A photographer was standing behind a pickup. Apparently, he had managed to follow us or someone tipped him off.

“Jesus Christ! Don’t they ever quit? Get in!” I said, jogging around my car to get in on my side, taking off quickly to get away, hoping to be more successful at ditching the press this time. “Britney, he was there the whole time, he got pictures of us kissing, and you know he’s going to have those published. I’m sorry if I just wrecked your reputation, it wasn’t my intention, I promise.” I looked her in the eye, making sure she knew I was sincere.

“I know you didn’t mean to cause any trouble, and you haven’t really. I mean, I’m an adult, I can be with whoever I want, right? And I want to be with you, so…let them take their pictures.” She leaned over and kissed my cheek, reassuring me.

“Well that’s comforting Brit, but you’re not the only one in those pictures. None of my family or friends know this side of me. I hope they’re as accepting of it as you’re assuming yours to be. I guess I can’t do anything about it, I might as well ride it out, for lack of a better metaphor,” I said, winking at my obvious reference to our sexual antics.

“OK now that that’s settled, what are we going to do the rest of the day?” she asked, slipping her sunglasses back on.

“I have class in half an hour and I can’t really afford to miss it. You told me you want to see what college is really like. Come suffer in Stats with me.”

“You can do that? Just random people join the class?”

“Well it’s a class of 200 people, they’re not going to notice anyone extra.”

And no one noticed. While we were talking before class started, she laughed a few times and I saw a few girls turn around and stare for a moment, then shrug and turn back around. I smiled to myself. There was that small-town mentality of “That would never happen here,” showing up again. This was going to be a relatively relaxing week if the public didn’t start getting involved with us. Of course, there were going to be those damn paparazzi photos showing up in the papers the next day, and they were probably already all over the internet.

I could barely concentrate in class. Britney kept pulling my notebook to the side and writing me messages. They started out innocently enough with silly doodles and the obligatory “Hi, what’s up. Nothing, I’m bored,” messages. That didn’t last very long though. Within 20 minutes, she had completely stolen my notebook and was busy filling up an entire page. When she was finished, she handed it back and resumed innocently focusing on the lecture.

I didn’t get past the third line before I nearly choked on my gum. What I thought was going to be mostly doodles and gibberish was actually a page-long description of what she wanted to be doing with me at that time, and it didn’t involve sitting in a Statistics class.

I finished reading, and I knew I was blushing. I closed my notebook, looked at Britney, stood up, and left the classroom. She wasn’t more than two seconds behind me.

I took her hand and pulled her into the restroom. Luckily, it was empty; everybody was in class. I led her into the far stall, locking the door behind us. We were on each other in a millisecond, kissing, our tongues fighting over whose could to go where and when. I slid my hands under her shirt, pushing her bra up to brush my fingers over her hardening nipples. I no longer felt her hands on my back so I glanced down to see where they went. She had unbuttoned her jeans and was sliding them down over her hips.

Britney pulled her lips from mine and leaned closer, flicking her tongue against my earlobe. “I need you, right now,” she whispered.

God, I didn’t need to be told twice. I dropped to my knees in front of Britney and grabbed the top of her panties, pulling them down to her ankles with her jeans, pulling both of them off completely. I looked up at her for a moment, the anticipation making her whimper. I put my index finger up to my lips. “Shh,” I commanded, not wanting to attract attention from anyone in the hall. She nodded in response and stepped her legs apart, running her fingers through my hair, urging me closer.

I moved my finger from my lips and reached between her legs, sliding it up the length of her slit, watching her shiver when I touched her. I took my finger away and grabbed her thighs, forcing her legs further apart as I leaned in, flicking my tongue against her clit. She gasped, and I knew it would be a fight for her to keep quiet, and I loved it. I moved my tongue against her again and she leaned back against the wall, pressing her hips forward to my mouth.

I looked up, Britney’s eyes were shut tight, and she was biting her lower lip. “How fucking gorgeous,” I thought. I moved my hand down from her thigh to the back of her knee, lifting her leg up over my shoulder so she could put it against the opposite wall, opening her up properly for me.

My tongue reached back and slipped inside, tasting and feeling how wet she was, and she was soaked. She must have been anticipating this all morning. I slid my tongue back to her clit, flicking it and licking it. Her hips were grinding back against me; I knew she was already close. I moved my tongue quicker over her swollen clit and I felt her body tensing up.

She moaned and I reached up, slapping my hand over her mouth to keep her quiet but she moved her head, catching the same finger in her mouth that I had just slid through her pussy and sucked on it. I looked up to watch her, wanting to hear her moan but not wanting to get caught. She gasped when I pulled her clit, her entire body shuddering. I knew she was doing all she could to stay quiet through what looked like an extremely intense orgasm.

I waited until I felt her body relax before standing up, giving her a deep, impassioned kiss before she could open her eyes.

“Oh my God,” she said breathlessly.

I kissed her again, enjoying the position I had her in – pinned against the wall, her leg still up against the opposite wall, still open for me. I bit her tongue playfully and moved my hand back between her thighs, brushing lightly over her sensitive clit. Her hips bucked in response. She wanted it again.

I backed away slightly to see her face, still flushed from her orgasm just moments ago, and she was grinning. I bent down and kissed the side of her neck as I slid first one, then two fingers into her pussy, pressing my thumb against her clit.

Britney draped her arms around my neck, holding on for the ride, but I held my hand still.