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Backstage Quickie
By
emilykiss

Backstage Quickie

I helped Bianca make a sensational debut.
The black corset held her lithe body in a death grip. From theundersides of her young breasts to the edges of her slim waist, the shinymaterial pinched inwards to highlight her subtle curves. I couldn’t help but notice how the matching tulle mini-skirt had a hemline that was raised just so – the better to show off her svelte legs, toned from hours of choreography practice. Ankle boots, raised dangerously high on stilettos, completed her look. Whoever pieced this outfit together sure knew how to arouse a hot-blooded male.

There was something amiss about this picture though. A girl dressed like that was not supposed to look this perfect. Perfection was reserved for the years when Bianca Nevaeh was a sweet little teeny-bopper star with the cute dimples. She needed to shed the past now. The careful calculation that seemed to ooze from her foundation-covered pores had to be exorcised.

And that’s where I came in. They didn’t call me The Exorcist for nothing.

“We’re not travelling down the lesbian kiss or twerking route this year,” her agent had informed me. “Those acts have already been claimed. Bianca needs her own sensation. Get my drift?”

It was only too clear. Bianca was to stage a burlesque-style striptease while singing (what she could) to her latest single, “Drop It Like a Lady”. The tulle skirt would go at some point and after four minutes of gyrating on a pole, a male dancer would rip her corset off, leaving her in just a bra and thong.

“Doesn’t sound sensational to me. Gaga got away with wearing that throughout her   whole performance last year,” I shrugged.

“The sensation’s unscripted,” her agent snapped at me. “God, do you really think she could go braless when Thomas removed her corset at the rehearsals?”

Right. So pulling off a wardrobe malfunction was supposed to be original. I kept the thought to myself this time. It was not my job to decide how Bianca should shed the child star tag,

On the other hand, it was my job to make her performance a convincing one. I was getting paid to loosen her up before her big show tonight. And from the look of her tense shoulders, she could really use me now.

“Flowers on the right table, fan mail on the left..” she trailed off in a bored voice, eyes glued to the Blackberry screen as her fingers tapped furiously at the tiny keys.

“I’m not your delivery boy,” I said calmly. She ignored me until it was clear that I was not going anywhere. With a sigh, she put away her phone and turned to face me. A pair of green eyes raked up and down my body which was naked from the waist up.

“I didn’t think Kiera was serious when she said she’d hire a male escort to help me get warmed up before my show,” she said, a bemused smile playing on her lips. I offered her a smirk in return.

A quick glance at the digital clock on the wall told me that I only had half an hour till the curtains would be raised on Bianca Nevaeh. There wasn’t time to invest in a flirting game now. She could save the banter for her on-again off-again pop star boyfriend. I was just here to unleash her inner slut before her big debut.

Four long strides took me to her dressing table. I tilted her chin up and leaned in to press my lips roughly against hers. Slender hands struggled to push me away. A strained voice argued, “No! I’ve just had my hair and make-up done!”

There it was again – the obsession with perfection.

“Fuck hair and make-up,” I growled at the beautiful little thing. My point was made by running a firm hand through her carefully tousled mane. The slightly sticky feeling of hair product did nothing to diminish the electricity that coursed through my fingers all tangled up in her silky smooth hair.

“Kiss me like you’ve never kissed him before,” I ordered in a firm voice. I needed her to be into this – into us - as much as I was.

A sure hand slid down my bare chest as her tongue parted my lips and felt for mine. All inhibitions were abandoned as I undid her corset. She slid out of it deftly to expose a perky pair of nipples. Just looking down at them drove me wild. But not wild enough to break our kiss just yet; I needed to ascertain something first.

Hooking a finger under the thin strap of her thong, I pulled hard. The flimsy string snapped, causing her to gasp.

“I needed that for the striptease!” she hissed at me. I silenced her with a fervent kiss.

“Improvise,” I offered as my guilty finger plunged into her tight little pussy. Her body writhed against mine. God, she was dripping wet now and I felt myself harden at the evidence of her arousal.

I pulled my lips from hers and shoved my fluid-soaked finger into her mouth with a plain command: “Suck.” I watched her clean my pointer like a Grammy depended on it as I flicked my tongue around her hardening areolas, teasing her. Her desperate moans and enthusiastic sucking felt almost like she was begging me to give in, to suck directly on her nipples.

“That’s enough, Bianca,” I finally decided. I was amazed how barely touching this young, nubile body of hers could get me so hard so quickly. It was time for her to really feel me now.

“Turn around,” I instructed, earning her quick compliance. In one swift motion, she found herself face-down on her dresser, with her hands held behind on the small of her back. I watched us in the mirror as I undid my jeans with one hand and pulled down my boxers to free my hard cock.

“I heard your vocal warm-ups earlier from behind the door,” I warned her as I teased her entrance with my head, leaving a trail of clear white fluid on her pussy lips. A barely audible whimper escaped her speaking lips.

We held ourselves like that for a few tense moments, my fingers stroking the length of my throbbing shaft as I prepared myself for her.

Aching flesh met aching flesh as I sunk my length deep into her snatch. It took all of my self-control not to burst out in a guttural groan because, god, I swear, Bianca Nevaeh was squeezing the cum right out of my cock. Keep yourself together, Kalen, I mentally reproached myself with a loud exhale.

Breathy moans filled my ears as I started to move inside of her. I made my thrusts hard and deep on purpose because I loved how her walls erupted in a small wave of spasms around me each time I did that. “You fucking love this, don’t you?” I whispered, slowing down to extract a reply from her.

“Mmmh, yes!” she whimpered. It was not enough. I brought myself to a complete halt, leaving just my head between her pussy lips. “Yes, what?” I asked, tormenting the both of us.

“Yes, I want to be used like the filthy little slut I am!”

That was so much better. Hearing the dirty confession tumble out of her own lips made my throbbing cock ache to get back into her tight little pussy. I rewarded her with deep, sharp thrusts into her fuck-hole, each one pushing her body forward against the dresser. I was positive her nipples were getting the delicious contact my tongue had denied her earlier.

“Oh… oh... oh my god!” she moaned. I didn’t bother reminding her about her vocal warm-ups. The warning that she was so damn close convinced me to hold it in for a little while longer and fuck her just that little bit harder. I continued slamming into her, my pace more frenzied now.

“Oh god! I’m cumming!” she screamed.

I felt it when the waves of pleasure finally caught up with her as they rippled around my cock, squeezing every last bit of resolve from me. With one final thrust, I shot my load deep within her pussy. Release felt so amazing in this tight little hole of hers. She was definitely more than just a talent in singing.

I was still inside of her when the door knob jangled. “Bianca!” came Kiera’s anxious voice. “You’re up in five minutes!”

Five minutes to get our shit together , I thought as I helped her back into her corset and brushed unhelpfully at her stylist’s ruined effort.

“You wouldn’t need this anymore,” I nodded in the general direction of her finger. She laughed as she removed the promise ring she’d never been photographed without and tossed it into the trashcan.

She missed her target but couldn’t care less. Little Miss Perfect was gone now; my mission was accomplished.

“Have fun out there,” I smiled, giving her tulle-covered ass a smack as she rushed out of the dressing room.

The thought of her performing live sans her thong and with my cum dripping out of her made me hard again. I was sure that Bianca Nevaeh had what it takes to cause a sensation. Even if tonight didn’t work out, Kiera’s got our little quickie on tape and the gossip rags were just a phone call away.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than Lushstories.com with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.


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