[This one is for tswiftrp - because she asked]
Miss Ashley was Taylor Swift's number one super-fan. That was a hotly-contested claim; but she could, and did, assert it. Miss Ashley was good at asserting things - mostly herself. Tall, blonde, and looking not unlike her idol, except, in her opinion, with better boobs, Miss Ashley was not modest, but then to be honest, she did not have anything to be modest about. Beauty, brains and an eye for a business opportunity had made her a rich woman in her mid-twenties. Men, well men were so entranced by her beauty that it was only later, when she had won, that they realised that she was also one smart cookie.
It was not, to be fair, her fault that women also fell for her. She had first noticed it at high school. The head cheer-leader had been the first of what was now a long list of stunning women who had succumbed to her. She had seen Gayle looking at her in the changing rooms, and at practice, and on the field, and indeed every other occasion. Catching her alone in the locker room she had casually asked her if she wanted to see more. Gayle had blushed.
"Ask nicely then!"
Ashley had watched a blush come over Gayle's cheeks. She asked nicely.
"Beg!"
Gayle had begged.
Ashley had enjoyed her services until she left for college. Others, including one of the new young teachers had followed in her wake. It had been the same at College. Ashley was cool, calm, and she collected. That others saw the blonde beauty and wrote off her acumen had been a business asset, and the PR firm she had joined had fast-tracked her to the top, and not just because the deputy CEO spent her leisure hours eating Ashley's juicy pussy.
It was not that Ashley, Miss Ashley as she liked to be called by her "pets" did not have a heart, it was just that, like everything else in her well-ordered life, it was under control. Then there was Taylor.
A friend, well her boss, had bought her tickets for the Reputation Stadium Tour, and Ashley had been blown away - sure she loved the music, but it was the sight of her, on that stage in that sexy black outfit - to be specific, it was the collar. Afterwards, as she let her boss, Sandra, eat her out, she had imagined it was Taylor. Miss Ashley had an instinct. Sure, Taylor was a woman known for her sexual allure, and some of the stories, well, she dismissed those, but that outfit, the leather, the silk - and the collar. Yes, Miss Ashley thought, Taylor was one of them - those Alpha girls she had spent the last decade topping.
Ashley had everyone of Taylor's discs. She collected memorabilia. She devoted a whole two rooms of her upscale house in Sacramento to her goddess. But how to test her theory - theory, she thought, nonsense, she knew!
Then the PR firm for which she worked landed the contract for Taylor's upcoming tour. A select few were given reserved seats and the chance to meet their client before the first concert.
Ashley made sure she managed to get close to Taylor, who she saw looking at her. Yes, she knew that look. Gayle had possessed it, so had Sandra, so had they all. She was introduced by the CEO, and as their eyes met, she was sure. As they were moved on, Taylor whispered to her:
"I'll tell them you have a pass, come see me after."
The sensations passing through her made Ashley faint with desire. It had been easier than she had thought; but hey, Taylor was like all the other Alphas - but much, much richer. She still craved pussy and losing that sense of responsibility to a dominant woman. Oh, this would be fun!
As she watched Taylor perform, Ashley was conscious that even her own famed self-control was straining at its limits. When the hell had her pussy been this wet with no contact ever before? She couldn't slide her hand under her dress and bring herself off - no, she giggled to herself, that would be Taylor's new position.
At the end, Ashley slipped away as soon as she could. She showed her back-stage pass and was shown to the dressing room.
The dressing room is the place where the legend on stage is constructed - and deconstructed. They say that if you want to enjoy a sausage you should never see where it is made; it can be true of dressing rooms.
The first thing to hit Ashley was the smell. It smelt of sweat and perfume - and there were other scents her nose discerned. But her eyes were all on Taylor. She was wearing IT - the leather collar. Her leather basque forced her pert breasts up, and Ashley could see beads of sweat on them. The leather pants she was wearing were sticking to her upper thighs and moulded to the shape of her ass. Ashley wanted - wanted badly.
All these things went through her mind in the twinkling of an eye, in a moment. Their eyes met. Yes, thought Ashley, yes. She was right - she knew it.
"So, you're Ashley are you? Sandra mentioned you - I had to meet you."
That smile.
So, Taylor knew Sandra? Presumably if she knew Ashley's boss, she knew what she was? Better, and better. Ashley smiled back.
Taylor pushed her long hair back, revealing that collar. Ashley focussed on it. That would be the way in. She knew she needed a trigger, and swiftly.
"You like it?" Taylor looked the picture of innocence as she fingered the collar.
"Like? Oh my goodness, Taylor, if I might be so bold, I love it, and the whole outfit. It speaks to me - and to you, too?"
Taylor blushed.
Was it actually possible that she could be more beautiful? Yes, it was. Standing there, caked in her own performance sweat, smelling the way she did, and now blushing - Ashley felt something she had never before felt. She wanted Taylor more than she had ever wanted anyone.
"Oh you may, Ashley, in fact, call me Tay. I am sure we will be good friends. I like to chill for an hour before letting the others in, would you like to join me?"
If anyone had wanted a meme for a "shit-eating grin" then Ashley's face at that moment would have been the perfect image. Did she want to join her. Did bears shit in the woods, was the Pope a Catholic? (Well who knew on the last?)
Tay's tongue seemed to be moistening her lips.
"But Ashley, you have the advantage on me, you have seen my panties, yes, those white silk ones over there are mine, you were right. But I have not seen yours. Is that quite fair?"
Tay said it in such a beguiling way.
"Could you unzip me Tay?" Ashley turned.
"Of course Ashley. Happy to. I love that dress, and would like to see more."
As Tay drew the zip down slowly, Ashley could feel her panties flood. Her eyes were fixed on those white silk panties on the floor. Could she see? Was that Tay's ...?
"Let me see, Ashley."
Ashley stepped out of her dress and turned. At five nine, she was almost the same height as Tay, and in her black lace push-up bra, her 34B breasts well well-presented and the high cut black panties she was wearing were the perfect complement, highlighting her firm ass cheeks and long legs. Her five inch heels made her look even more desirable.
Ashley could see that Tay liked what she saw. And she was fingering that collar.
