December 31, 2011
I came down to the hotel lobby 15 minutes before I was to be picked up. I could have driven to the New Years party, but I wasn't chosen as the designated driver in my group. So I would longue here until my friends arrived, then come back/stumble back after midnight without endangering my rental car.
But I had time to kill before they got here. So one warm up drink wouldn't hurt.
I got to the hotel bar and made my order, then checked my phone for any text updates from my friends. When I didn't see any, I put it down -- then saw in the corner of my eye that someone else was checking their phone three seats away.
"Waiting for someone too?" I asked before even making out who or what was there.
If I had had time to guess, I might have predicted it was a woman. I wouldn't have guessed a celebrity, though.
And I certainly wouldn't have guessed Katy Perry.
Or Katy Perry in a light blue dress to impress. One that highlighted a few....impressive things about her.
But there it all was anyway. And I had to grip the bar to avoid falling off my chair when I saw it.
A second was all it took to realize that wasn't the smoothest move. So I sat up straight again, tried to laugh it off and said, "Sorry, my mistake."
I figured she had bigger things to do than answer my questions. Besides, we were the only two people at this bar, since the hotel's own New Year's festivities hadn't started yet. She obviously came here for some quiet before her more extravagant New Years' night started, so she probably didn't need me bothering her/gawking.
Yet she still answered, "No, you got it right. Just waiting around too."
So celebs are just like us. That sounded good in my brain. But when I saw Katy chuckle, I wondered if I only said it in my brain. It seemed I didn't.
But my slip up led to her coming over and sitting in the empty seat next to me. Which let me see all of her blue dress and the figure it clung to. And since her hair was regular brunette -- her best color -- instead of one of her other colors, there was less to distract me. All in all, it could have been worse.
There was no need to introduce herself, since I made it clear that I knew who she was. So I just introduced myself, telling her that friends would be picking me up soon. For Katy's part, she was waiting for her husband, Russell Brand.
Despite all the tabloid rumors, it appeared they were actually still married. That thought I wisely kept in my brain. Fortunately, my drink arrived to help me push it back further.
Katy received her drink a moment later, which kept me from downing mine right away. Taking a shot, I took my shot up and raised it, to which Katy raised hers as well. Now that I actually had to think of a toast, I improved, "To....to a New Year that's worth the wait."
"Here's hoping," Katy toasted. I would have expected her to say another here, but I shrugged it off. I clinked my glass with hers, and we drank away in comfortable silence and small talk. Yet the comfortable silence got interrupted by a ringtone.
"Is that your ride?" Katy asked, once I recognized the tone was mine. I got my phone and read that my friends were driving up to the hotel soon. Of course by now, they seemed more like intruders.
Yet even if I could tell them to go, Katy and her occasionally funny husband wouldn't have room for me on their big night. Therefore, I'd have to be the fifth wheel with my friends after all, instead of a third wheel with a gorgeous singer and a crude comedian.
But as a compromise, I got up and asked Katy, "Do you mind if I....get some proof you were here? I promise they're not talented enough to hack my phone. And this wouldn't be TMZ worthy anyway."
"If you put it that way," Katy commented, then got up as I raised my phone to take our picture. She stood next to me, though I wasn't sure if I should get any closer. But with little time to waste, I carefully put my arm around her, ignored that I was touching her bare shoulder, and concentrated on angling my phone the right way.
When I got it right, I snapped the picture, then got myself to break from Katy. I really had to go by now, so I thanked her and concluded, "Good luck. Happy New Year," with nothing better to say.
"You too," she replied with a smile anyway. I filed that smile away for memory, then left the hotel. When the coast was clear, I actually checked my phone, seeing that it got both of us -- and her cleavage -- in the same frame after all.
Still, when I got outside to my friends' car, I didn't brag about my encounter right away. In fact, I didn't talk about it the whole night.
I snuck a peek at the photo a few times when no one was looking, but I put it away when they could see. I supposed I wanted to keep it private for me -- or something that wouldn't get me bombarded with snide comments, or questions on whether I looked down her dress.
In any case, I got back to the hotel an hour after the ball dropped. Though I wasn't the designated driver, I was more sober than he was. Perhaps thinking about what happened made me too distracted to get drunk.
I was certainly more sober than the people I passed in the hotel bar. I almost thought I saw a woman drinking in Katy's old seat, but I didn't look closer. I just headed to the elevator, anxious to rest and maybe think harder about my encounter in private -- since I wasn't too drunk to do that.
Or maybe I was. Maybe that's why I saw someone run into the elevator before it closed. Maybe that's why it looked like Katy. A tipsier looking Katy than I saw earlier.
"What are you...." I asked for starters. I looked around and saw I was really alone with her, then asked, "Where's your husband?"
"In Hell! I'd send him there myself if he wasn't...." Katy said with a semi-slur. This was suddenly getting dicey.
"I'm sorry to hear that," I said without any real idea what was going on. "Um, what floor are you on?" I offered.
"I got it," Katy insisted, then pressed the number 9, though she almost hit 6 first. Somehow, this made her laugh. "6...9...." She chuckled, "Not anymore! Not with him!"
"I'm...sorry to hear that," I settled on saying again.
"What about you?" she said. "You getting that with anyone?" That left me much more unsettled.
"Uh...." I trailed off, then just said "No" in a truthful but joking matter, still thinking this was a drunk joke. I couldn't afford to think it was anything else.
"Good. Makes it better," Katy stated, just as we reached her floor. I grit my teeth, waiting for her to leave so I could get back to my floor and....think about a few things by myself. Instead, she took my wrist and led me out of the elevator, showing a pretty good grip for someone her size.
Imagine what that grip....no, probably wasn't best to do that now. Was it?
"Where are we going?" I asked while trying to keep up.
"To my room. Best place to fuck," Katy declared.
Unlike anyone else in my position, the first question through my head was, "Which one of them spiked my drink?" If I wasn't drunk enough to imagine this, then I must have been roofied by at least one friend. But the feeling of Katy pulling me towards her room felt quite strong and real.
Right as she opened the door, it dawned on me there was a 50 percent chance this was real. It went up to 70 when I entered her suite, and shot to 85 when she kissed me. The alcoholic taste of her mouth made up the last 15 percent -- then harsh reality hit.
"Wait, wait, hold on!" I came to my senses -- kind of. "You're not seriously doing this, right? You....him....and you're...." I couldn't finish.
"Like hell he'd care. Why should you?" was her answer. Semi-convincing, but still. I wasn't drunk enough to take advantage of a bigger drunk -- even if it was Katy Perry.
Even if it was Katy Perry, I repeated louder to myself when she bent down in front of me. First she did it with her back turned, as she took her heels and threw them away. When the image of her quite undervalued ass sunk in, she turned around and bent down again.
When the image of her somehow not valued enough cleavage sunk in, I noticed her panties were on the ground.
I was sober enough to be conscious and alert, but not sober enough to question this anymore. That was handy to know.
But even if I was able to perform, was she? If she was too drunk to be coordinated and....as skilled as she might be sober, that might take something out of this.
Then she walked over and grabbed the front of my jeans, and there went that theory.
After torturously fondling me for a moment, Katy nodded and dropped to her knees. She didn't even wait to unzip me before she attacked my groin with her mouth. I barely steadied myself, and that was before she stopped licking my pants and started unbuckling them.
Once my zipper was down, she stuck her tongue through the open hole. As she licked, she unbuttoned my pants, pulled them down and exposed the rest of my underwear. But she kept licking the covered bulge, even when she put her hand inside my briefs.
Katy suckled my brief-covered balls while stroking my shaft inside my briefs. Yet in the end, she exposed the whole package and went back to sucking my balls -- only now they were directly in her mouth.