singer

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.



With great will power, I looked down to see Katy rubbing her face against my shaft and all but gargling my balls. She looked up at me and then kept eye contact as her tongue rapidly went up my base. Before I could savor all those sensations, she dropped her whole mouth halfway down my cock.



She just bobbled as fast as she could, with no real technique. Whether she was too drunk or too out of her mind for other reasons, I could analyze later. The suction of her mouth and lips, and the occasional lick from her tongue, was overpowering reason.



Reason was outright slaughtered when Katy popped her mouth from me, rose her chest up and rubbed my head against her cleavage. She then pulled her dress down to expose the rest of her tits, then hit her nipples with my cock before I could take them in.



When I could focus enough to study her tits — and study how Katy dropped my cock between them — I stepped backwards in shock and awe. Of course, with my jeans still around my legs, the step became an outright stumble.



I heard laughter as I laid on the floor. Normally, I’d think she was laughing because my pratfall made her come to her senses. But under these circumstances, it could go either way. However, it went the way of Katy lying in front of me, getting on her stomach and putting her mouth back on me.



Katy slurped and licked away, stroking me with her right hand and reaching back with her left. She pulled her dress up to reveal her bare ass, then tried to finger the area below it. After a while, she somehow managed to suck my cock while fucking herself at the same time, all on her stomach.



Her drunken blowjob, the sight of her fingering herself and the sight of her supple ass gyrating….it made me want to join in. Preferably before I blew up.



I barely managed to pull Katy off my crotch, then brought her in to kiss her deeply — regardless of the various tastes in her mouth. Once our ferocity increased, I got myself on my feet and brought Katy up as well, then led her to her bed.



I put her on her back, her legs hanging off the side of her bed. This allowed me to stand up and slide inside her. Once I was all the way in, I held her legs until they wrapped around me, then held onto her tits as I started pounding away.



“Fuck….squeeze those tits,” Katy commanded. I was way ahead of her, jiggling and rubbing them together for the millions they were worth. Katy bucked back against me with her lower half, as I held her tits for dear life.



“Fuck me harder, fuck it all out of me,” Katy ordered. Whatever that meant, I tried to do it by going faster. In addition, I bent down and covered as much of her left breast as I could with my mouth. It only looked like there wasn’t much in there because it was all so big. Regardless, I suckled away and bit down lightly — then a little harder when she tightened herself around me.



“Oh yes! Fuck, come on baby,” Katy reacted, grabbing my face and shoving it deeper into her chest. She rubbed her tits and her pussy harder against me, bucking underneath until she grabbed me and rolled me onto my back.



With my legs hanging off the bed and Katy riding on top of me, I tried to get situated. But Katy was still going, humping me harder than I was humping her. I attempted to fix that by grabbing her juicy ass and holding onto it as I fucked her right back.



My left hand slid down to her filled opening, as my fingers tried to circle around her worked over pussy. When they joined in with my cock, Katy groaned, kissed me deep and then kissed down my cheek and neck.



She went over to my ear and started nibbling, then whispered, “Come on, I really need some cum right now.” I instinctively slammed all the way in her, which made her groan right into my ear — which made me repeat the pattern.



“Yeah….I’ll give you mine if you give me yours,” Katy promised. After suckling my lobe, she got off me, crawled to the center of the bed and stuck her ass and pussy in my face.



Well, now I might last long enough to fit that position in.



I got on my knees behind Katy at the center of the bed, gazed at her peach-shaped rump, then pressed my face into it. My tongue dove right into her vagina as my hands grasped her hips, bringing herself deeper onto me. Katy moaned and pushed back against my face, until I licked up and down her lips and then licked all the way up to her ass.



I brushed my tongue past her asshole, stopped at the top of her crack, then sat back up and put my rod back in her pussy before she knew it. The sudden sensations made her tighten and almost explode then and there, but I didn’t want her to go before I got a few more strokes in.



I stopped and held her hips, giving her the message not to push back. I calmed down and looked at Katy, on all fours with her tits hanging down below. She finally looked over my shoulder, flushed for many reasons, daring me with her eyes to go on.



I took that look out of her with one big thrust, making her throw her head back. My hands left her curvy hips and went down for her curvy breasts, holding onto them for balance again. “Yes, that’s it, gimmie,” Katy pleaded. “I want that cock going off….”



Even now, I had enough sense to know better than to make a “Firework” joke, although I was thinking it. At least until I pinched her nipples and Katy responded by slamming her ass against me — then by almost pulling out before slamming against me again.



The final firework set off inside me, causing me to pound her even harder and faster. She did the same to me, as we could both only groan and say “Fuck” every few seconds. We even muttered “cum” at a few points.



Pushed to the edge, I only had time and sense left for one more move. I pulled out, placed my cock in between her ass cheeks and tried to fuck them like I would her tits. It wasn’t as tight of a fit, but the sensation of her ass on my cock was getting me closer.



To get her closer, I put my right index and forefingers inside her. When she moaned and clenched around my fingers enough to sound close, I put my cock back inside her to trigger her explosion.



After four thrusts, she went off and did her best to make me go off as well. But I stood still and let her drench my cock, not looking at anything that’d make me drench us further.



When the show appeared over, I could somewhat think about how I wanted to go. Yet Katy enacted her plan first.



She pulled out of me, got back on her knees, and bent down to lick her juices off my cock. When she got most of them, she put her tongue on my tip, but didn’t put me into her mouth. She just visibly batted her tongue on my head, gazing up at me innocently with her big blue eyes — which could still seem doe-ish even now.



Even with her mouth wide open, she still curved it into a smile as her tongue kept working, and her gaze got sexier. Then without warning, she dove her mouth all the way down my cock, and gave it one big swallow.



She then swallowed a few gallons of something else after that. And that was the last thing I remembered for several hours.



My next conscious memory was stirring awake, although I couldn’t open my eyes. It was clear that it was morning, however.



I was lying on Katy’s bed and just starting to remember that it was Katy’s bed. When I remembered why I was in her bed — and what we did on it — I nearly shot up like a vampire then and there.



Yet I kept my eyes closed, trying to work out something to do before I opened them. I didn’t feel Katy on me, so maybe she was gone. Then again, it was her suite — I should be the one to leave.



I was about to peek my eyes open to look for her, until I felt the bed squeak. Then I heard a small gasp and a few “Oh my God”‘s.



I should have showed her I was awake, but that might mean getting thrown out and yelled at. She wasn’t pushing me out or asking me to wake up, so maybe I still had a few seconds left. I heard her get out of bed, which made me think I might have a few minutes left.



I listened to her walk around and breathe heavily for a while. Judging by the next few sounds, she was walking over to the bathroom. I heard her splash some sink water and brush her teeth, but after that there was nothing.



Not until I heard the sobbing.



Perfect. She was crying over her drunken, cheating mistake — me. I just had to stick around for that. Well, that was as good a wakeup call as any.



I opened my eyes and got out of bed, trying to find my clothes before Katy noticed me. Yet I noticed her first.



She was standing next to the bed in a pink robe, in tears — and with her cell phone in her hand. Was she gonna call the cops? Or Russell Brand to confess so he could finish me off? She wasn’t saying one or the other — or anything at all.



Saying words of my own would probably make it worse, so I found my pants and quickly got them on. When I found my shirt, I was ready to bolt, but Katy grabbed my wrist again.



What the hell was going on?



Yet when Katy showed me what was on her phone, I got a better idea.



It was a text message from Russell Brand the previous night. And the gist of it was that he wanted a divorce.



Fucking hell. That thought I just barely kept inside my head. The rest of it was filled with all the other jumbled, crazy pieces of last night coming together.



The newly single Katy needed a drunken hookup to get past that text, and I was the nearest target. Now a more sober Katy apparently needed a shoulder to cry on, and I was the nearest target again.



How much of this was over him, or her and me, was unclear to me. All I could do was let her cry as I awkwardly put my arm around her.



As surreal as all this was, the one clear thing was that her ex pulled a dick move. It made me relax my grip around her and make it more comforting.



Once she was comforted enough, she pulled back, wiped her eyes and muttered, “Sorry.” I questioned why she would need to apologize — or would have if my head hadn’t started to hurt.



On top of everything else, there were the hangovers. Hers must have been 10 times worse. As she started to groan and hold her forehead, I impulsively offered, “I’ll get some water.”



She let me leave without a word, which would have been a golden chance to flee. However, if she wasn’t going to kick my ass for taking advantage of her, she probably would if I didn’t come back with water. Especially after showing me that on her phone.



With no real choice, I got two bottles of water from the nearest machine, and brought them to Katy’s suite. We even toasted with them like we did last night, before drinking them down and feeling a bit better.



For all the countless things to talk about, neither of us would get the ball rolling. We probably both hoped we wouldn’t have to. Still, we’d have to share at least one word.

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