The Runner Up

If you were to know one thing about Jeremy Stack, you would know he has the world's biggest hard-on for Kelly Clarkson, that famous singer who rose to stardom via the famous television show, American Idol. It wasn't long after Kelly won the competition that Jeremy began waiting outside of her dressing room door after live shows on the American Idols Tour. And on one particular night, August the 17th, 2004, Jeremy would have the chance to express his innermost feelings to the star-bright diva of his dreams.

"Do you mind?" said Justin Guerrini, the singer who was the runner up to Kelly on the first season of American Idol. Jeremy was blocking the entrance to the door of the dressing room, which all of the Idols shared.

"Oh," said Jeremy, trying to shift his weight in a very tight and crowded space. "Where are my manners?"

"And if you are thinking of getting a date with Kelly, think again." Justin said with a smirk, tapping his fingers to his chest. "I'm her #1 with a bullet."

As Justin opened the door to the joint dressing room for the American Idols, Jeremy began formulating a response in his mind. But just then, Kelly walked up to the doorway, wearing a black cotton lace top, cut-off at the midriff, exposing a silvery star-shaped piercing over her naval. From up close, he could tell she was a natural brunette.

"Coming through!" Kelly exclaimed, holding bottled water that she had used to soak her top after a long, sweaty show. "A girl's got to shower!"

"Kelly!" said Jeremy, who pulled out a charcoal portrait he had made of Kelly the night before. Jeremy's white t-shirt still had black smudges from wiping the charcoal dust off on it. "I have something for you."

Kelly took the picture from Jeremy's bashful hands and began to study it. Her cheeks started to turn a rosy hue, and a smile crept onto her face as she playfully bit her lower lip. "Truly lifelike!" she exclaimed as she swabbed her left pinky finger across the surface of the paper.

"Truly lifelike...like you," Jeremy breathlessly added, realizing a moment too late the nonsensical nature of his response. "I mean... you have many of life's great features to draw."

"Gosh," Kelly said with a slightly anxious giggle, "It's mostly just lighting and makeup."

"You wear them well." Jeremy said assertively. "I'm Jeremy."

"Nice to meet you, Jeremy." Kelly said, nervously tapping her foot against the doorframe. "This is probably the best picture of me that I have seen tonight."

Jeremy began to feel a knot develop in his stomach. Kelly then grabbed his hand.

"This might sound silly," Kelly said in a soft, near whispering tone, "but even though they call me the American Idol, I still like to engage in a little friendly competition every now and then."

Just then, the knot in Jeremy's stomach traveled up to his throat, preventing speech from coming out. Yet somehow, he was able to force out, "Friendly...competition?"

"I'll show you what I mean, but you have to follow me and be very quiet," Kelly said as the redness in her face turned from embarrassment to unmitigated arousal. "This way."

And just then, Kelly tugged at Jeremy's shirtsleeve and led him down the corridor of the Thomas and Mack center in Las Vegas, Nevada, toward a dark, desolate room near where the stage entrance was. "We'll have to leave the lights off until our competition is over."

Jeremy started to put together the pieces of the puzzle. It seems this "competition" would require a warming of the loins as a "qualifying run" and then, for the grand prix, a congress of flesh and phallic fraternity that will result in a moment most people wait a lifetime for.

"I hope you don't mind," Kelly began to disclaim, "I haven't had the chance to shower after my fantastic show."

"Don't worry about it," Jeremy said. "Our bodies will glide better together."

Ever so softly, Kelly shut the door behind them, and turned toward her latest competitor, who was now sporting a noticeable bulge emanating from the top of his pants. Kelly began to caress his hot rod, tapping at its tip like she was doing a mic check before a show. Slowly, she stroked the tip with blackened fingertips that were blackened because she had touched the picture of her face earlier. Not that it mattered- the room was pitch black anyway.

Without sight, Jeremy could only hear the ruffling of clothing as Kelly removed her top. As she massaged his erection, he felt the pleasant sensation of stiff nipples lodging into his side. He started to rub her exposed chest at the same speed she was rubbing his cock, which was now like a Spanish bull ready to charge out of the gate. His hands cruised down her torso, stopping upon the metallic belly piercing he noticed earlier.

"Did you get this as a prize after you won?" Jeremy asked, but Kelly was not keen to respond, for she had found the zipper to his pants, tugging it downward so that she can reach inside and grab his stiff penis. She began kissing his neck, licking the bottoms of his ear lobes as she got a good grip on his pocket rocket.

"This is your chance to make Las Vegas proud," Kelly breathlessly exclaimed as she sunk to her knees, holding a firm grip on his stratosphere as she inserted its meaty girth into her mouth. She began to attack that thing like it was a cone from the lone ice cream stand at the Tropic of Capricorn. Her tongue outlined its helmet-like tip, eliciting a soft moan from Jeremy as she picked up the pace. All he could do at that moment was rub his hands through her naturally brown hair, the hair he drew so perfectly the night before, his fingers damp from her sweat and his. Kelly withdrew.

"I have a package for you at the door." Kelly said in a jocular way. "I'll need for you to sign for it, though, so bring something to screw with."

Jeremy then took Kelly by her flowing hips, gently turning her so that her ass was pressed against his utensil, adjusting it so that it fit nicely into her moist pink package. Almost instantaneously, he began to grind out his signature, moving his hands up her bustling frame, arriving at her impossibly perky tits. Kelly's eyes rolled inside her head as she began to pant, "SOME PEOPLE WAIT A LIIFFETIMME, FOR A FUCCKING LIKE THIS!"

Jeremy humped Kelly with the grace of a gazelle, the skin of her back causing friction on his stomach that heightened his arousal to the point where Jeremy was about to cross his "t's" and dot his "i's" inside of Kelly's idol vagina. Suddenly, Kelly dismounted his throbbing rod just as Jeremy's cock gushed with a couple tablespoons' worth of cum which glazed the small of her sweat-drenched back. Between heavy breaths, Kelly tried to mumble something incomprehensible at first to Jeremy's ears. After a few seconds, she was able to say, "Judges?"

And just then, the lights suddenly came on in the room, revealing to Jeremy's unsuspecting eyes a table, behind which American Idol judges Simon Cowell, Randy Jackson, and Paula Abdul sat. Shocked at first, Jeremy began to scramble for his clothing, while Kelly, sticky naked on the floor, just sat in eager anticipation for the panel's verdict.

"That was some serious fuckin', dawg!" Randy said and he wiped his brow clean of sweat generated from the steamy display. "You really earned your stripes this week."

Jeremy nodded in agreement as Ryan Seacrest appeared behind him, holding towels for Kelly and him.

"Jeremy," Paula began. "I thought you really nailed it tonight. It was great to witness you emerge from your cocoon."

Jeremy could have done without the butterfly metaphor, but he was glad nonetheless. Meanwhile, Simon's blank expression filled Jeremy with a sense of curiosity that quickly became unbearable. "That was the worst performance in the world," Simon said. "Honestly Paula, what do you see in him?"

"I see his warm heart and his wonderful skill for creating truly lifelike artwork." Paula said, giving Jeremy a wink.

"His lovemaking had all the passion of a Sunday afternoon drive to the Laundromat on a quarter tank of gas," Simon responded, his disappointment clearly visible now. "We've seen better performances in this competition, and I don't see Jeremy advancing past this round." Randy and Paula both rolled their eyes as Simon said these things.

"But," Simon added, "I believe it is up to Kelly who she picks."

Just then, the room grew silent, which it had not been since Kelly and Jeremy entered the room like chipmunks hurrying into the inside of a tree on the first day of winter. Kelly surveyed the room, which now included Justin Guerrini, who she apparently fucked before the concert.

"Decisions, decisions." Kelly shrugged, taking one last glance at her portrait. "This is the hardest decision I've ever had to make."

Jeremy again felt a knot forming, only this time it seemed to tighten his entire body, leaving him paralyzed as Kelly announced the winner of the competition to be...

"Justin. I pick Justin."

The sound you just heard was the sound of Jeremy's heart sinking to the deepest depths of the Tarpits of La Brea, 300 miles west of the Thomas and Mack Center, located in the place Kelly and her new boyfriend, Justin, call home: Hollywood. As Ryan began to give him consoling words that he could not make out due to his state of shock, Jeremy received a tap on the shoulder from Justin, who, along with Kelly and the three American Idol judges, were about to leave the room.

"Look who's the runner up now!" Justin said with a sinister tone to his voice. With that, the room emptied of everything except for Jeremy and his derelict portrait that Kelly left by the wayside. Defeated, Jeremy leaned over to pick up the picture, the constricting knot at once releasing its vice-like grip on his body, allowing him to speak again.

"Dumb bitch," Jeremy said as he walked out of the room, leaving the light on behind him.

THE END!!!