Carrie Underwood: the Contest

DISCLAIMER: this story is a work of fiction and does not in any way reflect the actions or thoughts of Carrie Underwood. It is written for the enjoyment of those who read erotic material and I do not make any money from writing it.

Any resemblances with real persons are purely coincidental.

Written as a request.

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The fat man on the taxiway was sweating profusely as he dragged two big suitcases over the asphalt to the assembly belt that led into the luggage store of the neighboring airplane.

Brandon Hughes let out a bored sigh and leaned his head against the frame of the little window next to his seat. The plane was overdue to start, but the captain made no attempt to do so, meaning they were stuck at the LA Airport for almost forty-five minutes now! The whole predicament would be much easier if the California summer sun hadn't heated up the whole plane and temperatures reached apocalyptical degrees.

Brandon had asked a bypassing stewardess a couple of minutes ago for the reason of their delay and she had explained to him that they had to wait because a flight from the inner parts of the country had a delay, but they would be here any minute.

Brandon had grumbled a little, but he had kept enough coolness to realize that this wasn't the stewardess' fault, so he leant back and tried to relax. After all, the comfort of the first-class seat helped to ease the discomfort of the situation a little...

After watching the hypnotic waddle of the stout airport helper for a couple of minutes Brandon turned his attention down to the slip of paper on the small table in front of him. The corners of the letter were worn out from being folded and unfolded so often and the ink had faded a little at the kink folds.

Tiredly Brandon wiped the sweat of his brow and recalled for the thousandth time how he ended up here.

-

It had been four weeks ago. Brandon and his guys had watched the local football-derby in his yard, amiably arguing which team had the bigger balls and would take away the victory until Brandon's friend Marco had enough.

"Fine, Brandon," he had shot, his voice slightly raised to stand out over the little fights of the rest of the gang, "You want to tell me that those deadbeats will able to win? Nah man, I bet you five bucks that by half-time we'll be in lead with at least double your points! Deal?"

"No deal, buddy" Jason had replied smirking, "You know I don't bet for money..."

"You're such a pussy, dude!" Marco had exclaimed and the whole gang had laughed.

Brandon had turned red. Bets around here were never about the wager, they were about fun! But in the previous discussion Brandon had had a pretty big mouth... If he didn't want to lose his face he had to think of something... fast! The problem was: his team wasn't very good this season and chances were high that Marco would be right. So the art was to find a small wager that would be good enough for his friends to accept it.

"Listen," he had spoken up, "How about this? You know how they always do those stupid commercials during half-time, where you have to call to participate in some stupid contests? Whoever loses has to participate! And just in case he wins, he'll have to take whatever he wins and use it!"

Your buddies looked at Marco, interested. After thinking about your idea for a second he answered: "Okay, what the hell... I won't lose anyway!" The two of them shook hands, then turned their attention back to the screen as the game began.

Turned out Marco was right. Brandon's team had caught a ridiculously bad day and when the break came they were back with 7 to 21. The whole group, even the supporters of your team, cheered as Marco handed you his cell, then everyone watched the TV, waiting for the commercial.

"Shit, Brandon," Marco grinned and playfully shoved your shoulder, "I hope it's anal beads!"

"Shut the hell up, man!" he retorted, but couldn't help but smile.

Then the spot started. The screen faded to black. Slowly, some guitar-sounds began to play out of the speakers, soon followed by the voice of a girl. She sang a country-song and Brandon had heard her before, but he couldn't place who she was. Usually, if a country-song starts playing on the radio he changed the channel. It was simply not his taste.

After a few lines the song decreased to a background-music and some over-excited announcer-dude jubilated from my speakers, "You always wanted to meet Carrie Underwood? Here is your chance: Experience a personal guiding by the star through the privacy of her trailer before enjoying her concert in the first row! A day you will never forget! Call 00-4815162342!"

The numbers were blended in on the bottom of the screen, then a gorgeous blonde came into view. She wore hot-pants and a light blue vest, had a killer-body and angelic face and was smiling widely as she pointed towards the camera and exclaimed: "I wanna meet YOU!"

Then the spot was over and was replaced by a Ford-commercial.

Marco nudged him on the shoulder, "Dude, you heard the lady! She wants to meet you!"

As everyone laughed he shook his head, dialed the number and fulfilled his part of the agreement. It could have been worse after all...

A few minutes later everyone was focused on the game again. The bet was completely forgotten...

-

That was until two weeks later a Lady called and told him he won the prize. Brandon was so irritated; the woman had to explain to him what the prize was about until he remembered the game-night. His team had been crushed, so he had drowned his anger in a gallon of tequila. The events of the night were a slur in his memory; he even had to check the newspaper to recall the result.

But after all, Brandon thought, this wasn't so bad... A totally paid for two-day-trip to the concert, watching a smoking hot chick show off her body in tight clothes from a front row seat and get some private time with her beforehand while being led around in her private trailer.

Yeah, this prize was definitely by far better than anal beads!

-

Yawning Brandon folded the winning-coupon down to coaster-size and shoved it back into the breast-pocket of his sweaty shirt, then he took a swig of the cool corona, which the cute, brunette stewardess had served him as a refreshment.

He rested his head in his hand and let his gaze once again linger to the whale-man who struggled with the heavy luggage out there in the burning sun. Misery was so much easier to bear if you could watch someone who caught a fate worse than your own!

-

Brandon awoke with a start as he felt a painful pressure drill into his eardrums. His eyes shot open and his head darted around in panic until he remembered where he was. Apparently the remaining passengers had arrived and the plane had finally taken off.

Quickly he pinched his nose shut and equalized the pressure, followed by immediate relief. Moaning he closed his eyes and fell back into his seat, before looking out of the window down to the miniature landscape beneath.

He heard a soft chuckle from his left hand side. Apparently one of the incoming passengers had taken the previously empty seat next to him and found his ordeal quite funny...

Brandon continued to stare out of the window, annoyed that the newcomer was amused by his shock.

After a while he grew tired of watching the slowly changing country underneath and trying to see figures in the rare clouds and glanced carefully over to his left, not moving his head to not betray his curiosity.

He didn't see much, just the person's legs, but what he saw made him shift slightly in his seat.

His neighbor was a young girl in her twenties. Her incredibly long, lean legs were of a natural deep tan and lay almost completely bare, the tight denim hot pants showing off a sinful amount of golden thigh! She had her legs crossed and let her feet dangle playfully. She wore cowboy-boots, the dark-brown leather went up halfway to her knees. All in all, the look was amazing!

Brandon wiped some sweat off the back of his nose. In addition to the still remarkable heat there was now the excitement of sitting next to a girl with such incredible legs.

After a moment Brandon couldn't resist any longer and turned his head slightly to check her out further. Her bronze-skinned arms lay in her lap, holding some book in her delicate, dainty hands. Around her right wrist dangled some kind of silver bracelet, giving a nice contrast to the creamy skin. She wore a white see-through top with embroidered stars, underneath which Brandon could clearly see a silver necklace and a white vest. Through those two layers of fabric he could make out the two little twin-bumps of her nipples, so she didn't seem to wear a bra. Not that she needed one, her pert breasts- he guessed them about b-cups- stood proud and high on her chest, even without any support.

Now really curious, Brandon turned his head to the side. He flinched and then he gasped.

He flinched because the girl seemed to watch him the whole time he had checked her body out. An amused smile curled her full pink lips and white teeth sparkled underneath. Her eyes were of a deep brown and there was a friendly smartness in them. Her long blond hair was loose, apart for a braid that went along her hairline and disappeared into the rich masses of her curls. Her face almost outmatched her extraordinary body!

He gasped because he knew that girl! She was the woman he had seen on TV in the spot that had brought him here! He had been sitting next to Carrie Underwood for twenty minutes now without noticing it! And he had slept through the better part!

"Ah... Uh... Eh..." he stammered, flabbergasted.

"Hi," Carrie interrupted him before he could finish the alphabet and offered her hand with a friendly smile, "I'm Carrie!"

Brandon bit his cheek, the small pain helping him focus, before he took the offered hand, glad that his own didn't shake. "I know," he said, "I'm Brandon!"

"Pleasure," she answered and her smile made him believe that she really meant it.

He coughed nervously. "S-sorry for staring!"

Carrie cocked an eyebrow and gave him an amused smirk. "Oh, are you?"

Something about her cocky reply helped him calm down and took away a great deal of his insecurity. He managed a smile. "Actually... I'm not! It felt good!" Immediately he wondered where that came from. What got into him to be that straightforward?

"Glad to hear that," Carrie responded, her smirk never wavering, "I didn't want to wake you. You slept so peacefully..."

"I hope I didn't drool," he joked, but swiped over his mouth with the back of his hand automatically, glad to hear her soft chuckle.

"Don't think I'm complaining or anything," he said, changing the subject quickly to stop her from imagining you drooling, "But what are you doing here? I mean... don't you have a concert tonight?"

"Yeah I do," she replied, her expression getting more serious now, "Usually I'd be knee-deep in preparations by now, especially today that I've got to lead around some contest-winner-dude... But there is this little girl. She is twelve years old and she has got cancer. The doctors said that it would be her last birthday, so her mother sent me a letter that she is a huge fan of my music. I decided, fuck preparations, I'll handle that spontaneously and I flew to Colorado to meet her and sing a couple of songs for her..."

Brandon saw the sadness in her eyes and decided that he had to do something. Changing the subject seemed rude, so he had to focus her on the good aspect. "I think it's great that you care that much! And who knows, miracles happen every day and positive experiences changed medical histories many times... Maybe you saved her life!"

She smiled at him and even though both of them knew that this was a load of crap, she reached for his arm and squeezed it gratuitously. "Thanks," she whispered, before deciding to change the topic herself, "So, what's your history, Brandon? Why are you in this sauna of an airplane?"

Smiling, Brandon leaned back. "Actually, the reason I'm here is you." Carrie gave him a questioning look. "I'm the contest-winner who'll get to annoy you today!"

Her face lightened up visibly and you smile at the honest delight you see. "Uh, so I guess you are the special surprise my assistant talked about when she booked the flight! My private jet had a problem and she said she had an idea of how to use my flight. I was wondering what she meant by that all day!"

"Yeah," Brandon answered, "I hope you're not disappointed that I didn't jump out of some fancy cake but lay in a hot seat, drooling all over myself..."

This time Carrie didn't chuckle, but laughed heartily. It's a nice, bright sound.

"So you're a fan?" she asked.

"Sorry, but no," Brandon replied, deciding to be honest, "I just had to participate because I lost a bet. I mean, you're hot as hell, but I'm not into country..." Giving her a careful look he quickly added, "I mean I'm still very glad to be here! I couldn't say the same if I had to go to a Justin-Bieber-concert!"

Carrie's eyes went wide in mock surprise, "So that means a dude prefers me to Justin Bieber? Uh, I hope I'm not blushing too hard..." She laughed at his insecure look and again she squeezes his arm, "I'm just kidding! It's not bad that you're not a fan, it just means..." she flashed him a seductive look, "that I'll have to make you one..."

Brandon gulped. Was she flirting with him? Quickly he answered, "And how do you plan to do that?" playing the ball back in her court.

This time, Carrie's hand wanders down to his knee. "I think I know a couple of ways..."

A wide smile spread on Brandon's face. This time there is definitely no doubt she was flirting!

-

The next two hours literally flew past as the Brandon and Carrie talked non-stop about everything on their mind and Brandon had never been so disappointed when it was finally time to leave the airplane. Carrie had given him continuously hints, and flirtatious smiles which made him easily forget about the frowsy air.

As Carrie got up and stretched extensively, he finally got his first look at her bubble-butt. He had always been an ass-man and Carrie's hot-pants-encased posterior was truly divine, in reality even better than on TV!

He only let himself enjoy the sight for a second before he quickly got up and helped her getting her luggage.

"Wow, a true gentleman!" Carrie smirked as she took her purse from him, "Thank you!"

"No worries," Brandon answered as he shouldered his own bag and followed her into the relative coolness of the airport, the entire time unable to tear his eyes away from her ass.

Politely Brandon waited with her at the baggage claim and when her suitcase finally arrived, he carried it. He was wondering what she needed such a huge suitcase for when she left just yesterday, while he needed just his one bag for a two-day-trip, but he guessed the reason was simply because she was a woman and the fact that she was a popular country-singer didn't help.

When they arrived at the rent-a-car and he wanted to say good-bye to leave for his bus, Carrie suddenly stopped him.

"Why take the bus?" she offered with a suggestive glint in her eyes, "I'd love to give you a ride! We could start the tour early"

Without thinking for a second Brandon immediately accepted and waited with a wide grin on his face behind her as she picked up the keys to the reserved car.

-

As they arrived at the car, Brandon's eyes went wide in awe as he saw the luxurious form of a shiny, black 1965 Ford Mustang.

Carrie gave him a knowing smile as she unlocked the car. "Do you wanna drive?"

"S... sure," Brandon stammered quickly, overwhelmed by how great this day turned out, then he said with a nod to the suitcase, "Let me just stack this away..."

"Okay," Carrie responded, one eyebrow mischievously cocked, "Just put it in the back."

Brandon nearly choked as he realized what she was implying before he decided to play along, seeing how far he could push this. "Uhm... Are you sure? I mean this thing is pretty big and even though that back is beautifully formed I'm not entirely sure it can take something this huge..."

Carrie stepped into his personal space, her voice low and husky now. "We won't know if you don't try... So just be careful back there and I'm sure that in the end it will slip in almost by itself..."

Brandon felt his dick rise in his shorts. The kinkiness of her talk, along with her mesmerizing nearness was overwhelming. She was so close that he smelt the vanilla-scent of her shampoo and a voice in the back of his head started wondering how she could smell so fresh after she had been travelling all day.

Just before he bent down to kiss her he quickly turned around to the trunk. After all, he had read that she was a married woman. There was just trouble if you hooked up with someone's wife. Brandon had made a couple of unpleasant experiences in that department.

He opened the trunk and heaved the suitcase in. It fit without problems. Then he took the keys out of Carrie's hand, threw his own bag onto the back seat and got in.

After Carrie sat down in the passenger seat, a wide grin on her face- she obviously enjoyed the sexual tension- he turned the keys in the ignition and left the parking garage.

-

The ride to the concert-hall took about half an hour. It didn't take Carrie long to get Brandon back into the mood, he wasn't able to resist her charms long. After all, what bad could come from a little harmless flirting?

Carrie swiftly directed him through the area until they finally stopped in front of a gate that said "Authorized Personal Only". Next to the gate was a little shed in which a tired-looking, old, black guy daydreamed over some newspaper.

As they approached the gate he slowly looked up and gave Brandon a taxing, critical look until he spotted Carrie on the passenger seat who gave him a friendly wave.

With slow movements he pressed a button and the gate swung open to let you in.

"My trailer is that one right there," Carrie points- unnecessarily since it is about double the size of the others-, "You can park right next to it..."

Brandon did so and exited the Ford. "Just leave all the stuff in the car!" Carrie said, "I got a guy who'll take care of it. So let's start with the tour."

Brandon nodded with a smile. "Goodbye, beautiful," he whispered to the car and gave it one last pat to the hood before turning around and followed Carrie towards the monstrosity of the trailer. He made sure to stay several steps behind to be able to watch that divine ass jiggle as she walked and had to bite back a moan as she hopped up the steps to the entrance door, making her juicy ass bounce amazingly.

Carrie took a moment to fumble with the keys, then she unlocked the door and pushed it wide open.

"Welcome," she said with a meaningful smile over her shoulder, "to my little paradise..."

Brandon smiled back, then he followed her inside.

The room he came into looked huge, too big to fit into this vehicle, even though the door on his left hand side suggested that there were even more rooms. This one seemed to be a living room. It was tastefully furnished, in light colors. The floor was covered by a white, fuzzy carpet that muffled the sounds of every step to inaudibility. Paintings of different artists hung on the walls, showing peaceful landscapes, beaches and fields.

There was a sitting area, equipped with a modern-style, beige leather-couch and two matching armchairs that were grouped around a huge plasma TV.

The whole room was flooded in light and as Brandon looked up, he saw a huge panorama roof that allowed the sun to shine in and fill the room with soft, natural light.

All in all, the room looked very comfortable, easily more inviting than Brandon's own little bungalow. Slowly he walked around, his head turning from side to side to take in all the details. "It's very nice!" he said. "Thank you," Carrie responded with a slight proud smile.