Introduction
There she was on stage, a vision of beauty, and the stirring in my pants made me grateful I'd joined the army. I was one of the many U.S. troops that had been sent to the sweltering Oman desert to prepare for any incursions into Afghanistan following the atrocities of September 11th and we were all certainly willing to give it our all to bring down the Taliban. But, all thoughts of warfare were far from our minds as our ever-thoughtful government had arranged a performance just for us. None of us were expecting any kind of entertainment so when the high brass told us a show had been organised and training was cancelled for the day and we had to go to the amphitheatre we were all looking forward to it. It would be good to have a break after so long away from home in a foreign land, it didn't matter who or what it was. But I don't think there was a single man there that wasn't over the moon with what we got.
Mariah Carey stood on a makeshift stage carved out of the desert surrounded by several hundred whooping GI's belting out another of her many hits. Now, I'm not a big fan of this kind of soppy pop crap but I wasn't really listening to the music, just ogling her perfect body as she strutted across the stage, clearly revelling in the attention she was getting from all these fit young men. And from my seat just a couple of rows back I had as good a view as anyone. She was wearing a pair of ridiculously short, blue denim hot pants that didn't fully conceal her perky ass cheeks. On top, Mariah had a tight, cropped white t-shirt on with the initials "USA" written across it in red, white and blue glitter. Like her shorts, the t-shirt looked a few sizes too small and from certain angles, which all the guys were straining to look from, the swell of her large breasts was clearly visible.
As the performance drew on, Mariah began to noticeably start to feel the effects of the sweltering heat; she drank more water and began to sweat. As beads of sweat ran down her body it became obvious she wasn't wearing a bra. The already tight t-shirt had become slightly clingy with moisture and Mariah's nipples were visible through the thin, white cotton. For a bunch of sex-starved soldiers, this flaxen haired beauty in front of us now was giving most of us a serious case of blue-balls. Mariah carried on regardless and belted out a couple more hits; swaying her hips, shaking her ass and generally getting a kick out of teasing us all like the slut she was.
She saved the best for last though, as her final song ended with one of those high notes that only she seems to be able to hit she had the microphone in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. She threw her head back and warbled the final note, holding the mic close to her lips; she was having to lean back slightly pushing her ample tits out even further. Then she tipped the water over her head and neck letting it run down the already damp fabric of her t-shirt I watched as intently as everyone else as the beads of sweat and water dripped slowly over the curve of her breast. The soggy cloth now stuck tight to her voluptuous upper body and I, along with everyone else, dreamed of fucking this fit little bitch. Then, she stopped and looked up with dripping wet hair and breasts proudly on show for everyone. It took a moment for everyone else to stop daydreaming but then the rapturous applause began with wolf whistles and hollering aplenty. Mariah bowed in all directions, making sure everyone got a good eyeful of her pendulous melons and stiff nipples.
She lapped up the applause although I'm sure everyone there wished it was something else she was lapping up! Finally, after several minutes of taking it all in (I wished it was something else she was taking all the way in!) she sauntered off stage with extended strides, drawing extra attention to her long shapely legs. She winked at me and licked her lips! I swear! She winked at me! That made my mind up for me, it was just going to be crafty hand-job but now I'd decided that I was going to find Mariah's tent later and fuck her brains out. She obviously wanted it, fucking slut! And now, she'd singled me out! I left the arena and, like everyone else, dreamed about screwing the big-titted diva but unlike everyone else, I was going to be doing it for real!
Chapter I
The guy driving me back to my tent on the way back from the gig had been one of the men in the audience and judging by the bulge in his trousers he certainly enjoyed the show. He was the usual tall, muscular G.I. with short cropped blonde hair under his cap and lightly tanned skin; a direct result of the merciless sun here in the Middle East. All my gear was back at my tent so I hadn't had the chance to get changed yet and the journey consisted mainly of this fit, young man ogling my still damp body while trying to concentrate on his driving. Conversation was limited and I never found out this chauffeurs name; he was too busy daydreaming about sucking on my big, ripe tits that were jutting prominently from beneath my clammy t-shirt. I decided to have a little fun. The jeep was an automatic, so he only needed one hand on the steering wheel. About 10 minutes into our drive I leant over from the passenger seat and began softly stroking his large right hand. The young soldier glanced briefly to look at me before trying to return his attention to the sandy road.
"Oooohh." I purred, "what big strong hands you have." I grabbed him by the wrist and began toying with his hand. "Our country's in safe hands, if you'll pardon the pun!"
"Errm. Th…thanks Miss Carey." This polite, all-American boy answered. Still trying to resist me. I dropped one hand high onto his right thigh for support and he unconsciously and momentarily gave the jeep a little more gas. With my other hand I raised his own digits and started to suck and nibble slightly on his index finger.
"Mmmmm." I groaned quietly around his thick digit. My metaphor certainly worked; the large bulge in his pants twitched slightly as I'm sure he imagined what I'd rather be sucking on. My hand in his lap moved upwards to play with his rock-hard member.
"Ah!" he gasped. I pulled his finger out of my mouth and guided it to my chest. By now he needed little encouragement and, as forcefully as he could at such an unconventional angle, palmed at my bouncy melons. I loved how it felt as his rough hands ran over the damp fabric of my t-shirt. I carried on playing with his cock through his pants and he continued to make pleasing noises. I moved his hand down to the top of my left leg and he quickly began caressing my supple thigh. Slowly, but with increasing confidence, he cupped and stroked the soggy denim of my shorts and started rubbing my eager pussy lips and inflamed clit through the soaked fabric. With my free hand I turned my attention to my breasts; mauling my own huge orbs as I lost control.
"Oh god yeah." I breathed, tossing my head back over the seat. "Mmm, that's it baby!" As I began to lose control my subconscious rubbing of his prick became faster but more erratic.
"Uuuuhhnnn FUCK!" The guy had come. I could feel the sticky dampness seeping through the fabric and lightly coating my hands. The jeep swerved briefly as he tried to regain control and he removed his hands from my crotch. That sudden jolt made us both stop our caressing and as he returned the jeep to its straight course he looked down, ashamedly. "I…I'm sorry." he muttered. I just smiled. A few minutes later we arrived at my tent. He hadn't said a word since his little 'accident' and I had just been absent-mindedly been playing with my hair. He cut off the engine and waited for me to get out but I hadn't finished with him yet. Instead of leaving through the passenger side, I leant across him and opened his door; making sure he got a good look down my cleavage. He swallowed hard and was obviously a little uncomfortable. I swung one of my long, bare legs over him and sat down in his lap.
"Couldn't be helped, could it big boy?" I said, now sitting astride him. "No man can resist this." I ran a hand down my toned figure and could feel he cock coming to life once more. I placed my arms around his neck and for anyone watching we must have looked like a loved-up young couple. "But you turned me on so much and now I need a big, stiff cock pumping into me." Those last few words I spoke while simultaneously grinding my ass into his excited groin. I cocked my head to one side gave him my 'slightly disappointed' face. "You wanna fuck my titties?" I turned around so I was sat on his lap with my back to him, "Or maybe bend me over the back of this jeep and hear me scream your name?" The boy was speechless; he just couldn't believe I was saying this to him. I smiled and finished with: "You go back and clean yourself up and maybe, just maybe, we can have a little fun later!" I scooted off him and left the jeep. He just sat there open-mouthed staring at me. I closed the door and gave his cock one last squeeze before winking and strutting into my tent.
God, I enjoyed teasing them! Just being on stage and showing off this fabulous body got me hot but when they were making no attempt to hide the rubbing of their bulging crotches I just got damp! That encounter with the driver had just made me even more eager to have multiple screaming orgasms that night. If none of them had had the balls to come to my tent I don't know what I'd have done, probably frigged myself senseless, which would have been all well and good but a bit of self-abuse can't replace a good, stiff cock (or several)!
My 'home' for these few days could only be described as sparse at best. A tent in the middle of the desert that had a half dozen large water barrels outside; it was still some distance from where the soldiers were housed. Thank God for small mercies, I don't think I could have put up with living in close proximity to such pigs for very long. I was given an old wicker chair and a foldout camp bed covered with course green fabric, I had demanded pink silk but it seems that no one listens to me and no one understands my needs. I also had a sink and a shower, which were connected to the water barrels outside and as nice as it was, it certainly wasn't what I was used to. I'd been given the impression that I would be staying in Oman's most exclusive hotel but instead I got this! I fired my manager of course and complained but there was nothing I could do about it now; for the next week or so I was stuck in sweltering heat with only the bare minimum needed for survival; no croissant shop anywhere near! I tried to look on the bright side and contented myself with the knowledge that I was better than this, that these plebs I was surrounded with had no idea what it was like being the world's best selling female artist and the icon of millions; but I'd still be giving my record company hell when I got back to the States.
The one thing that seemed to make this trip worthwhile (apart from the money that is) was that I would have the undivided sexual attention of hundreds of men. Who could blame them really? I'm hot and I know it. I'm tanned, toned and have a figure to die for. Millions of men worldwide want to fuck my brains out but think I'm unattainable; that just adds to the attraction. What all these people don't know is that when I want something I always get it. And if I was going to be forced to live in virtual poverty I intended to enjoy it as much as possible. There's nothing I like better than being than being fucked hard by a group of guys who think I'm slut. They think they're in control but knowing it was me that engineered the situation just turns me on even more. I just love having rock hard cocks pumping into my every hole and controlling the animal urges of Neanderthal males, making them think they're the ones with the power. Of course, my public image is just the opposite but that's just to sell records and keep the money rolling in.
Chapter II
