Madonna didn't enjoy these charity ceremonies, but she did like the after show parties, and tonight, with Guy away filming in LA and the kids staying with their nanny, she decided to let her hair down and give it a go. The limo dropped her off at the end of the red carpet, and she was met by a battery of flashlights from the assembled paparazzi that were fighting amongst themselves to get the pictures of her that would be splashed across tomorrow's newspapers. Members of the public cheered in delight at the world famous icon. Madonna waved and blew kisses to them, while disappearing through the revolving door of the London Savoy Hotel.
She knew she looked good in a figure hugging, black, £50,000 handmade Versace strapless dress that showed her huge boobs that were pushed right up. The dress was slashed to the thigh revealing her gorgeous toned legs in all their glory. Teetering in very sexy black 4-inch Gucci high heels, she swept confidently into the massive function room while dripping in about £5,000,000 of enormous sparkling diamonds. Her blonde hair was tied up sexily and she glowed with the feeling of all the heads turning to appreciate her. A couple of pink champagnes relaxed her and she was soon mingling with the good and the great of the country and enjoying it.
As the evening wore on she found herself sitting with four very familiar premier league footballers and, she had to admit, four very attractive premier league footballers at that. As the drink flowed the level of conversation deteriorated.
"You're pretty popular among the lads in the dressing room," one of them said. "Most of us would do you if we had a chance."
Madonna laughed, "Don't be silly, I'm old enough to be your mum," she said, smiling at him.
He winked at her, "Exactly, an attractive and experienced woman. That must be every young guy's dream!"
She felt herself redden and took another big gulp of bubbly. One of the other players moved over and sat next to her.
"He's right you know, there's something very fuckable about you!" He put his hand on her firm thigh and squeezed it gently.
"Oi, stop it," she said, pulling his hand away rather half-heartedly. "I'm not one of those young sluts you lot seem to pick up all the time!" the queen of pop added.
He leaned in close to her, eyeing up the huge sparkling diamonds, "I can see that, you're far classier."
She was enjoying the attention enormously and flashed a smile as dazzling as her jewellery at him as he sank back into the sofa.
"So, Madge, you ever shagged a black bloke before?" piped up Didier, the 6 foot 2 inch hero of the African nation Ivory Coast.
Giggling, Madonna squealed, "You are so rude."
"He'd fucking ruin you," said one of the others.
Screaming with laughter, one of the other lads piped, "He's hung like a donkey, plays like one to."
They laughed and she couldn't help herself from glancing down at Didier's groin. She felt excited and turned on, and, although she knew it was wrong, she wanted him, badly. She looked at his face and he was staring straight at her.
"Seen enough?" he asked, "Or would you like to see more?"
She bit her lip and glanced around; the others were still laughing. She felt horny but was unsure about the press getting hold of the story.
"I think I had better go before I get into trouble," claimed the pop icon.
They pleaded with her to stay and she had to admit she wanted to, but it was getting late and the Crystal champagne was having an effect on her.
Madonna sighed, "Sorry lads, maybe another time."
She went out to the foyer and was about to phone her driver to get her when a gleaming red Ferrari appeared.
"Want a lift?" It was Didier at the wheel with a huge smile across his black face.
Her heart was pounding, she couldn't say no and five minutes later they were in his sports car and driving through the empty streets of London. There was an uneasy silence in the car; they both knew what they wanted but neither wanted to make the first move. In the end he simply drove straight back to his expensive waterfront apartment and Madonna didn't even protest.
"Night cap?" he said as he opened the car door.
As soon as they were inside his flat Madonna made the first move.
"You footballers are so flash, I bet you won't be able to handle me!" she shrieked.
He turned to her, looking her up and down.
"You don't mean that, you want me, it's obvious," whispered Didier confidently.
"You pretentious....", she never finished the sentence.
Didier bent forward and kissed her; she resisted for a millisecond and then responded. They kissed long and passionately, tongues probing each other's mouths. His hands roamed over her body, squeezing her massive 34C breasts and grabbing handfuls of tight American buttock. His cock hardened as he felt the outline of stockings and suspenders through the material of the dress. He pushed her back, pinning her against the wall, pulling her dress up, and she gasped as he thrust his hand between her legs, cupping her crotch. Madonna pushed against him, eager for him to carry on.
She felt his big black thumb on her gash, nudging and probing her, she was already getting wet and she wanted to know if what the others had said about him was true. Without warning he sank to his knees and pushed his face against her crotch, nuzzling in and pushing his tongue against it. She put her hands on the back of his dreadlocked head, pulling him closer as his hands shot up her dress and roughly tore her tiny lace thong clean off. Thrusting his face back into her neatly trimmed mature bush, she groaned as his huge tongue slipped along her lips and flicked over her clit. He didn't wait there long.
He rose to his feet and towered over her petite 5ft 3" body. Even in 4-inch killer heels, Didier was still far taller and looked at her with a wicked expression on his face. She slipped her hand between his huge muscular legs and pulled his Armani trousers open, allowing them to fall to his ankles.
"My God," she whispered.
Her widening eyes alighted on the biggest cock she had ever seen, it was at least 12 inches long and so thick. She wrapped her tiny manicured fingers around the shaft and gently stroked it while he lifted her dress again, exposing her sexy silk black stockings and lace suspender belt, and pushed forward. Didier lifted her slightly off the floor whilst staring into her eyes and she guided the monster to the mouth of her cunt, where he took over, pushing into her slowly. She opened her mouth to gasp but no noise came out, it felt incredible, she thought she would burst as he went further and further up her, stretching her in a way that she hadn't felt since she had her kids.
Madonna was pinned back against the wall and he had lifted her clear off the floor, her legs were wrapped around him as he started slipping up and down her, at first it hurt but as her vagina grew accustomed to the size of his cock and she began to enjoy it more and more. He got quicker and quicker and each thrust made her gasp louder. He was so strong that he was virtually sliding her up and down his cock. She was impaled on his massive rod and loving it.
Madonna felt wonderful and was completely lost in the experience. She felt the first ripples of an orgasm deep inside her and gripped him tighter with her magnificent dancers' legs. He pushed hard up her, shoving his big black dick as far into her as possible. She shrieked in ecstasy and couldn't stop herself from coming in torrents. Didier grunted and his eyes rolled back into his head as he began pumping his come deep into her. The two of them climaxed hard and long; Madonna had never felt anything like it since her wild sessions with black NBA star Dennis Rodman. After he pulled out they stood there panting.
"Man", he said, "that was fucking amazing; you older babes are so good."
She was surprised and secretly pleased with the compliment. "You're not bad yourself," she replied.
He nodded, "So, you want to stay?" he asked.
Wild horses couldn't have dragged her away.