Her Biggest Fan

To say that Danielle Colby Cushman blew my mind from day one is an understatement. There I was, watching (I thought) the innocent "American Pickers". Next, there appeared onscreen the most delectable siren I'd ever seen on TV. That would be Danielle Colby Cushman, who runs their office and researches for their "missions".

For those of you who don't know of "Pickers", it's about two guys who journey the country, buying all kinds of interesting junk for their curio shops that they hope to sell at a mark-up. Fun, interesting program for any guy. Now add Danielle.

She's a classic Amazon. Tall, big-boned, with clear blue eyes, long wavy black hair, and truly heroic proportions. Danielle is a big girl lover's big girl: not heavy, but surely voluptuous. She also has some very interesting ink that apparently leads to some interesting places. Danielle is bright, has a playful, kittenish sense of humor, and a friendly, outgoing personality. She's been the center of some very intense fantasies of mine.

Since I travel for my work, I was delighted to land in a town where Danielle would be performing in a burlesque show. This is her first love, and she did it for a living for years before being recruited for "American Pickers".

I was quite excited to take in the show. When the lights came up and the curtains opened, I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. The stage was filled with singing, dancing girls in racy costumes. At the center of it all whirled the delectable Danielle. They swayed in time to the bawdy music, sang risque' songs, and flirted outrageously with the entire crowd. Each number was more fun than the last. I'd only gone to ogle Danielle, but the talented troupe had served up an entertaining program, and I applauded wholeheartedly at the end of the show. An encore was roaringly requested and graciously fulfilled by the now-sweating lovelies.

Next, Danielle herself came to center stage under a pencil spot. "We'll be having an informal meet-and-greet backstage. Convince me!" she said in a teasing tone, smiling impishly.

Hands shot up by the dozen in the audience. Danielle picked people in turn, listening to their reasons and making her selections. The process had gone on for several minutes and I sensed the opportunity slipping past. I waved both hands like a referee signaling a touchdown. With the corners of her mouth turned up, Danielle pointed to me. "What's your name, and why would YOU like to attend the meet and greet?" she queried, tilting her head in exaggerated listening pose.

"I'm Dean, and... and I'm your biggest fan!" I stammered out. "SHIT," I thought, "totally unoriginal!"

Danielle didn't miss it. "Hmmmm.... yeah, I've heard THAT before!" she said with mock gravity over the laughter and booing of the crowd. I managed to catch her eye, and shot her such a look of appeal that it must have made up her mind. "You know, I DO like your balls for running out THAT old fossil. You're in. He's the last one, folks."

Her people quickly fanned out through the audience, doling out ID's to us chosen few. We were led backstage, and seated casually on various packing cases and directors' chairs.

Danielle fielded the many questions with humor and wit, and kept us laughing for the whole session. But then, too soon, she stated, "It's time to wrap up, folks. Anyone got anything you want autographed?" Like magic, photos appeared and she good-naturedly signed each with a witticism. One brave soul piped up, "Can you sign my dick??" The room went silent. Danielle fixed him with a steady gaze that could have meant anything. Finally, he looked away, no longer feeling so brash. She replied coolly, "Of COURSE I can't sign your dick. Foolish. I'm married!"

I was the last to approach her. As she signed, I asked, "Can I buy you a drink? Really, I'm such a huge fan of yours!" She looked directly at me, speculating. "No," she replied, "I don't think we know each other that well." Crestfallen, I didn't know what to say. Then she continued. "If you can behave yourself, I'll take you back to my hotel. I can show you some things that may interest.... my biggest fan." She tipped her head prettily and looked at me with that playful glance.

"Of course I'll be a gentleman," I answered. She appeared to consider a moment more, then said briskly, "It's good. Let's go." We left the theater, surrounded by bodyguards. She surprised me by getting into a very ordinary-looking black pickup rather than a limo. She was followed by only one bodyguard. "Do you think this is safe?" I asked. "I can take care of myself PRET-ty well," she responded, "and besides, he's armed to the teeth."

We arrived at the hotel. It was nice, looking to be a four-star. It was amusing to see a valet take her pickup away to park it. The bodyguard, a hugely muscled young guy in a suit, followed quietly. He made me nervous. "Will he be along the whole time?" I asked, trying discreetly to jerk a thumb toward him. "He sure will." she said shortly. I didn't belabor the point. The three of us got in the elevator, and the operator took us to the top floor.

The door opened and we got out into a luxury penthouse suite. This surprised me for someone who appeared a jeans-and-T shirt girl when she was out of character. She caught my train of thought. "The theater pays for it. It's a bit much, but you wouldn't believe how much they earn from our revue!"

We arrived at adjacent doors. She carded one, and the man mountain carded the other. Wordlessly, we disappeared into separate rooms. She explained, "I just feel safer with Sam nearby. The chances of anyone getting up here with some bad intentions are pretty slim. But if they managed to get the better of me, they'd still have to try dealing with him. It wouldn't be pretty." She chuckled softly, then gave me that speculative look again. It was direct, intense.... and did I detect, slightly horny? After all, being in the presence of someone who practically worships you must be a heady brew!

She led me through another door, into what must have been a living area. But frankly, it was a mess. Road cases and luggage were everywhere, items of clothing scattered about. Against the back wall was some sort of structure made of chrome tubing. What the hell was THAT?

She stepped very close to me. I was intoxicated by her nearness, and could smell the faint scent of her perfume. "How big a fan ARE you, Dean? How far will you go to prove it?" I was a little shocked, but wanted to show how big a fan I honestly was. "I think you're incredible and sexy and funny.... I worship the ground you walk on!"

She walked over to the tubing gadget. It had padding in strategic places, as well as cuffs. It was a really rugged, portable restraint. "I want to perform, just for you. But you've got to trust me; and let me cuff you in. Will you trust me?" She looked at me so candidly I couldn't say no. Heart beginning to beat faster, I said, "I trust you. Lead on." Then, steeling myself, I stepped up to the restraint. Danielle showed me where to put my hands and feet. But first, she again stepped very close to me. I was so intoxicated with her that I scarcely noticed as she stripped off my clothing, all but my boxers. Next she snapped the cuffs on my hands and feet. The cuffs were attached to the restraint by heavy ropes, and permitted limited movement. "NOW I've got control of the situation," she stated firmly.... then giggled.

She picked up a remote from a road case, and switched on some music. This wasn't the brassy music from the burlesque halls, but quiet, sexy dance music. Danielle then strode to the center of the room, faced me, and began to sway. Undulating her big round hips in time to the music, she ran her hands up and down her body, cupping them under her breasts, following the contours of her hips and thighs, and easing them down the gentle curve of her belly.

Items of clothing began to waft away from her. Danielle soon wore nothing but a red satin bustier, black panties, bra, and stockings. The fishnet kind, with a little line up the back. Oh good God, did she look incredible. Then, smiling slightly, she sinuously dance-stepped over until she stood directly before me again, swaying gently in time to the beat. I was breathing hard now, beginning to feel incredible lust, and an extremely uncomfortable and useless hard-on began to grow. It soon emerged from my fly.

Danielle looked down at it, amused. From seemingly out of nowhere she produced a little leather riding crop, which she used to lift my burgeoning hard-on higher. She bent at the waist, looking closely, her red, full lips only inches away. "WELL Dean," she declared, "I can't say that you're truly my BIGGEST fan. But that IS nice." She stood and began to sway again, looking me in the eye. Taking that as a signal, I went to put my arms around her, meaning only to kiss her. Her demeanor changed instantly.

"THAT's not allowed!" she snapped, eyes blazing into mine. She popped me delicately on the head of my dick with the riding crop. It stung, and my hard-on began to deflate slightly. "Oh no, no, NO; THAT's not allowed either!" she intoned, like a schoolteacher correcting a wayward student. "We have to fix this, right away!"

Danielle reached behind her and unsnapped her bra, allowing it to fall unnoticed to the floor. The tattoos showing feathers, flowers, and leopard spots, which adorned her generous cleavage, came fully to light. But it was her breasts that made me catch my breath. Somewhat soft, but still high, they had to be at least 40D's. Maybe DOUBLE D's. Her nipples were dark pink, with big, perfectly round areolae surrounding them. She began to sway again, and her luscious mammaries swayed too, jutting invitingly from her chest. My hard-on reawoke instantly. She smiled sweetly. "Now, THAT's more like it!"

She wriggled closer, and stood only inches in front of me, still moving. She slowly eased her hands between her panties and her gracefully orbiting hips, and eased them down her long, long thighs with a soft whisper. She held them with one foot, then deftly tossed them in the air, catching them with her hand. She waved the black, silky panties in front of my face like a magician hypnotizing a subject. "Do you like them?" she inquired. I caught an ever-so-slight scent of happy vagina on them, and my hard-on began to throb. Inclining my head forward as far as I could, I extended the tip of my tongue. She watched intently. And, fucking up again, I want to taste the crotch panel of the panties. ZING! the damned riding crop came out of nowhere, and now my poor tongue was stinging. "What the FUCK!" I exclaimed. "Oh, NONE of this will do!" she shot back. "I didn't tell you, you could sample. And WATCH your language!" The damnable riding crop flicked out again, and now my lips were stinging. It was all I could do not to shout another dirty word. And my hard-on began to deflate again.

Danielle looked positively furious. But, then her face softened. "Dean," she said softly, "have a look. It's okay." She backed a few steps, and began to dance slowly again. She slid her hands around her big hips, then up to her belly. Next she eased them down, down until they rested on the wings of her pelvis. Down, until they framed her crotch, resting on her muscular thighs. She had a "landing strip" shaved into her dark pubes. "Oh, my fucking word!" I thought. She spread her thighs slightly, timing it so she opened them a little with each undulation. Then, she gently tilted her pelvis forward, exposing her pussy. She had a big, soft camel toe, and her labes, now engorged and a sexy dark pink color, protruded invitingly. Beads of moisture made them glisten, and soft, wet sounds escaped from her pussy as she moved side to side. My hard-on recovered amazingly, throbbing, beginning to ache, and even producing a good drop of pre-come on the tip.

"Oh now, Dean, that IS better," she cooed, smiling brilliantly at me. "Please Danielle, let me go!" I begged, "I can't take any more! Just let me lick your pussy!" Again, her demeanor changed in an instant. "What! You have the nerve to ask for something?" The dance stopped immediately. Staring intently into my eyes, she ripped my boxers down, snapping them painfully over my prick. Her hand grabbed me around the base of my cock, wrapping around my scrotum so my balls and erection stuck out uncomfortably from her fist. "I'LL decide what and when things are done," she enunciated, "and there are NO requests from YOU!" She squeezed, and my cock and balls began to hurt. Then, just as suddenly, she released me. At least she didn't produce the fucking riding crop again.

The dance show was now over. Standing close once again, she said, "Mostly you were good. I guess you deserve SOME reward." Flowing her hands gracefully down her belly, she slid them between her thighs, she parted her juicy labes and began to rub her engorged clit in a gentle, circular motion. My prick seemed to have forgotten abuse, for it sprang to steel hardness once more. She stopped masturbating, leaned full length against me, and pressed her luscious rack full against my chest. My hard-on was bare inches- was it millimeters?- away from her juicy cunt, and I swore I could feel the heat and moisture radiating from it. I thought I'd lose my mind from lust and frustration. At that moment, she raised her fingers to my lips. Apprehensive, I did nothing. "Go ahead, taste," she instructed quietly, "it's okay." She just held her hands in place; I was forced to turn my head to each finger. I took them in my mouth, devouring the luscious maiden oil from each of them in turn. This did nothing to ease my lust!

"Well then, Dean, since you seem intent on my pussy," began Danielle, "you're going to get what you want!"

Thinking she was going to release me and I was going to get to shove my raging cock into her juicy pink, I anticipated impatiently. But she merely stepped away, flipped a lever, grabbed a handle, and lowered the restraint backward. I was now lying on my back, and saw what some of the padding was for. Other than being unable to move much, I was comfortable.

Danielle paced over, stepping gracefully as a tigress, then climbed onto the restraint and straddled my face. Her spread thighs framed her edible cunt. The lips were now fully bedewed with her copious moisture. She was fully aroused and her inner labia were also slightly open, allowing me to gaze a little way into her pussy hole, which showed a hint of very wet, paler pink. I immediately extended to tip of my tongue to her labes. "Just a MINUTE, Dean.... I didn't TELL you to lick me!" she growled. Her smooth, powerful thighs eased closed, squeezing my face painfully. The pattern of her stockings pressed against my skin. I suddenly realized I was totally at her mercy.... and if I didn't obey her, she could even kill me. She'd said she was married... did her husband know about any of this??

I stayed stock still. "Better," she intoned. "Lick me now. And do a good job. YOU'RE the one who's supposed to be my biggest fan."

She released the pressure of her thighs. I found that by tilting my head a bit, I could get my lips and tongue on her entire pussy. First, I planted a gentle, adoring kiss directly on her clit. Then, I worked my tongue and lips over her outer labia, softly tonguing them and licking away the luscious drops of woman's dew. I moved on to the inner labia, placing my lips on them gently, and flicking them with quick upward strokes of the tongue.

Her excited vagina began to open under my attentions like a pink, fleshy flower blossoming, and the depths of her fine love tunnel glistened wetly, pale pink. The scent of aroused woman was delectable and aphrodisiac to me, somehow fanning my desire even higher. Danielle began to rock her hips slowly. My tongue now found her clit, which was fully engorged. It was deep pink and inviting, and awash in her moisture. I licked away her juices, savoring the taste, and began to lick her happy love button with rapid, upward strokes. Danielle was rocking her hips in sharper, less graceful motions now, and her breath hitched. It wouldn't be long now....

Suddenly, she threw back her head and moaned deep in her throat, "Oh do me do me DOO MMEEE!" She leaned back, resting her hands on my upper thighs, and her pelvis fairly well vibrated as she climaxed. Danielle lost her English in her ecstasy, and she merely sighed deeply "OOOhh, ooh oooohhhh...." I kept up the rhythm on her pulsating clit. Once more she bucked her pelvis rapidly, and her open pussy began to drip luscious drops onto my face and neck. She sailed over the edge again, her entire body now quivery with delight. I still kept up the rhythm, meaning to bring her off again. But suddenly, Danielle knelt over me, clasping her hands over her juicing pussy so I couldn't touch it any more. "Ooohyeah, you did all right, Dean" she panted, "but that's enough! She climbed shakily off me.

What would she do to me next? I was in a fever of anxiety. She had no qualms about abusing me, although she hadn't actually harmed me. I was hoping that satisfying her would make her happy. Danielle's grace had momentarily departed her. She stalked quivering over to a suitcase, worked a combination, opened it, and pulled out a bottle. What the hell...?

She came back over to me, and raised the restraint into an upright position. Did she mean to just cut me loose after all this? My cock was rock hard and pulsating, aching with lust, and drops of pre-come were emerging from the end and dripping off. She looked at it, then looked me in the eye again, grinning lasciviously.

She draped herself full-length over me again, pressing her awesome rack against my chest, nipples hard against me like big points of lust, her alluring, juicy pussy only inches from my aching rod. I was practically praying that Danielle would just ease up on her toes, tilt her amazingly flexible hips forward, and engulf my cock in her soaking, steamy womanhood. It wouldn't be long before I would make it wetter and steamier still.

As much as I was dying to fuck (or be fucked) by Danielle, it wasn't to be. But she had something just as good in store. She padded away and came back with a chair. She placed it in front of me and sat, thighs spread widely so she could get close. Her incredible, gorgeous tits were level with my dripping, aching dick. This served only to inflame me further. Smiling a sly smile at me, Danielle picked up her little bottle, opened it, and poured some thick, sweet smelling liquid into her hand. Now the light went on in my head.... it was sex lube. I was fairly well bursting with anticipation. She leaned back slightly, and slathered it liberally into her cleavage, taking plenty of time to rub her soft, sexy globes all over with the slippery elixir.

She described circles around her erect nipples with her slippery hands, rubbing them expertly. Soon, she began to quiver yet another time. But she didn't finish up. Leaning forward, she held one mighty breast in each hand and wrapped them around my raging prick. A drop of semen fell into her cleavage, and I waited anxiously to see if this would piss her off.... and if the riding crop would emerge any more. She merely smiled gently, and pressed her big tits tightly around my member.

It was like being closed in a silken vise. Her smooth soft skin felt so fucking good, covered in the wonderful lube. I wanted to rock my hips and fuck her tits, and looked to her for a clue. She caught my drift. "No, Dean, I'll handle this," she instructed. It was so hard to just stand there bound, in silence, and wait for what was coming up....