Celebs Meet CSSA #18 – Avril Lavigne

Not to be read by anyone under 18, unless you’re a hot chick. In
which case, my address is:

6669 NE 89th St.

Seattle, WA

(not really, but you can still drop by and see who lives
there if you want)

The following is completely fictional. Any resemblance to reality is
entirely coincidental. Contents of this story are merely creative
license, not unlike a TV show or movie that uses real people in
fictional settings and situations. However, if you do have video or
pictures of events similar to the ones described below, feel free to
forward them to the e-mail address below. Feedback, comments,
praise,
criticism, death threats, nude photos, etc. can be sent to
voodoojoe2000@yahoo.com

For personal use only. Feel free to distribute to friends, enemies,
lovers, hopeful lovers, just keep my name and e-mail address on the
story or I shall hunt you down and make you write the whole damn
thing out by hand.

This is my entry in the Celebs Meet CSSA series. It’s complete
fiction, based around the simple premise that Avril reads the
stories on CSSA and then wants to fuck me because I dabble in erotic
fiction. If something like this were true, I’d have sold the story
to The Enquirer instead of posting it here for free. The only detail
of this story that’s true is that Avril played the Memorial Coliseum
in Portland, OR on April 27, 2003. Well, there might be some details
about me that are true, but I’m not going to tell you which ones.
That’s for me to know and you to find out. Hope you enjoy the story,
and thank you for taking the time to read my feeble attempt at
following the greatness that authors like TRL, Carnage, Turc443,
etc. have contributed to this series.

This story features Avril Lavigne in some compromising situations
and positions. The codes are (MF, cons, oral)

“It’s a damn cold night, trying to figure out this life. Won’t you
take me by the hand, take me somewhere new. I don’t know who you
are, but I, I’m with you.” – Avril Lavigne ‘I’m With You’

Celebs Meet CSSA – Avril Lavigne

April 27th, 2003

“We’re going to see Avril,” my friend Allen screamed at me as we
cruised down I-5 to the Rose Quarter. Avril Lavigne was doing a
concert at the Memorial Coliseum on the 27th of April, and Allen had
won back stage passes off one of the local top 40 stations here in
Portland, Oregon. I had been wanting to go, but without a car to get
me there, I had held off on buying them. When Allen won, he had
tried unsuccessfully to get a woman to go with him. Just about every
woman he asked had been interested, until they realized that they
would’ve had to go with him. When realization finally dawned on him
that he wasn’t going to find an actual date, he finally let me have
the other ticket. I had balked at going at first, mainly because
Allen wanted me to give him a hundred bucks for the privilege. When
I told him to shove it, he gave in and gave it to me for free.
Actually he told me it would count as my birthday present, but that
was fine with me because it meant I’d get to meet Avril instead of
his usual gift of trying to teach me how to skateboard. I don’t
skate, and I never will. He knows this, so his gifts were generally
just an attempt to cheap out on me.

A Simple Plan was set to open for her, so I planned to wander around
while they were on stage and see if I could get into the pants of
any of the moms of the 12 year olds with ties hanging around their
necks like Avril. I figured that some of the moms might be pretty
hot, and one or two might be willing to let their kids hang around
with their friends for a few minutes while I took her off to some
place quiet. It’s really not that far fetched seeing as how this is
the northwest where people seem to have no problem with abandoning
their kids for a bag of crack. If they’ll do it for crack, there
just might be a raging nympho out there who’d do it for a quick
fuck.

“Why are you so quiet?” Allen asked as ‘My World’ played on the CD
player in his car.

“I’m just wondering if I’ll be able to score with any of the hot
moms that are sure to be there,” I answered. “You know there will be
tons of young kids, with young moms. I’m hoping to separate a hot
mom from her kid long enough to bang her in bathroom or something.”

“Yeah, like that’ll happen,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“I’m sure your whole ‘I’m gonna go backstage and sweep Avril off her
feet’ plan is going to work so much better,” I sneered at him.

“I’m her skater boy, and it’s only a matter of time before she
realizes it,” he said, feigning a hurt look.

Shaking my head, I went back to my own thoughts. I’d been working on
a story with Avril, Pink, Shakira, and Christina Aguilera, and had
been doing pretty good on it after consulting with TRL, so I was
running possible scenes through my head. I already had the whole
story done except for the final free-for-all between the four of
them in Pink’s bedroom. I was still trying to figure out how to get
Christina and Avril out of the bathroom, Pink and Shakira out of the
living room, and then get them all into the bedroom without sounding
cheesy. I had been toying with having Avril and Christina come out
of the bathroom to find Pink and Shakira in a 69 on the living room
floor, then joining in. Problem was that I had already set up the
bedroom to be the sight of the climax of the story. Pink had set out
the toys in there, with the intention of them all winding up there.
That’s when it hit me, switch the setting of the Pink/Shakira scene
to the bedroom and then have Avril and Christina walk in on them.
That way I’d be able to have them all in the bedroom, and not have
it feel so forced.

“DUDE,” Allen yelled. Seeing me snap out of my little trance, he
continued “We’re here.”

Looking out the car window, I saw that we were pulling into the
parking garage. Seeing the guy in the orange vest waving us into a
parking spot, Allen pulled into it and turned off the engine.

“Are you ready to have Avril laugh at you?” I asked, breaking into a
grin as we got out of the car..

“She might laugh for a second, but then she’ll realize that I’m
right and want to do me right there and then,” he said confidently.

“I’d be careful if I were you,” I told him. “She just might think
you’re a stalker and have her bodyguard kick your ass.”

“She wouldn’t have her bodyguard kick the ass of her future
husband,” he said, still clinging to his fantasy of her falling in
love with him.

As we walked out of the parking garage, we turned left to head to
the lines forming at the doors. As we stood in line, I got bored,
lit up a cigarette, and started mapping out the final scene to my
pop sluts orgy story in my head.

Just as I got to the point where Pink pulls Christina’s hair while
she fucks her with the strap on, Allen tapped me on the shoulder and
said “Looks like the lines are starting to move.”

Nodding my head, I grabbed the ticket and backstage pass that he was
holding out to me. After about 20 minutes, we came to the front of
the line. Holding my arms out to the side so security could frisk
me, they waved me through after all they found was my pack of
cigarettes. Handing my ticket to the ticket taker, he handed me back
the stub. Pocketing the stub, I waited for Allen to get past the
security guy frisking him. When Allen finally made it through, he
was bitching about the guy grabbing his ass or something like that.
I wasn’t paying much attention, because bitching is Allen’s favorite
pastime. If it weren’t for bitching at something, Allen wouldn’t
speak.

“Let it go,” I told him. “Either take it as a compliment that some
guy wanted to grab your ass, or shut the fuck up about it.”

“Why should I shut the fuck up when he’s the one who fondled my
ass?”

“Because I don’t really care if he fondled your ass. He could have
bent you over the railing and fucked your ass for all I care,” I
said.

“I give you the ticket that got you in here tonight, and that’s the
way you treat me?” He asked, visibly upset.

“Yes, you gave me the ticket, but that doesn’t mean I have to sit
around and listen to you bitch about some big bald guy copping a
feel all night,
’94 I told him. “Would you want to listen to me talking about some
guy grabbing MY ass?”

“I guess not,” he conceded. “I won’t talk about it anymore.”

“Good, now lets go see if we can go get your ass kicked by an angry
bodyguard for stalking the star of the show,” I suggested.

“Sounds good to me,” he agreed. “Well, except for the whole ‘getting
my ass kicked’ thing. That part sounds like something I want
absolutely no part of.”

Stopping by the concession stand for a drink and to buy a t-shirt,
we made our way to our seats and sat down to wait for the lights to
go out that always signals the start of the show. We were second row
center, close enough to get Avril’s sweat on us if she happened to
look our way.

When A Simple Plan came out, all the twelve year olds, who have no
taste in music, stood up and cheered loudly. Being a 24 year old
with only slightly better taste in music, I stayed seated and bided
my time until the cutest woman ever to set foot on stage would grace
us with her presence.

As the opening band finally ended their set, I took the final sip of
my Pepsi. Taking the lid off, I tipped the cup up and let a couple
pieces of ice fall into my mouth. As I crunched them, I silently
wondered if she might give a repeat of the show she put on at the
Much Music award show when she spent the whole performance with her
pants halfway down her ass. Having bootlegged a video and stills of
the performance, I certainly knew the sight well. However, seeing a
small video on your computer is vastly different from seeing it in
living color about 15 feet in front of you.

“I’m going to get another soda, want anything?” Allen asked me.

“I’ll take another Pepsi. Tell them to put very little ice in it
this time. The ice just takes up space that could be used for
something I actually want to drink,” I answered as I popped the last
few pieces of ice into my mouth. I dropped my cup on the ground as
he went off to get the drinks.

Allen returned just as the house lights dimmed again. Taking my
drink from him, I stood up as the opening of ‘Complicated’ started
playing.

“Chill out, what you yelling for. Lay back, it’s all been done
before,” I sang along with Avril as she pranced around on stage.

Her set list read pretty much like the back of her CD, but I was
pleasantly surprised to note that she didn’t seem to have the
problems singing as she had on the couple awards shows I had seen. I
chalked it up to the fact that she had her own guy working the sound
board instead of someone who was more concerned with keeping the
levels adequate for speaking instead of music. It was either that or
she had learned how to sing live in the couple months since the
Grammys.

“Why is everything so confusing, maybe I’m just out of mind,” I sang
along as she closed out the set with “I’m With You.’

As the house lights came back up, Allen turned to me and said “Lets
go backstage, man.”

“I’m right behind you,” I responded as I followed him to the aisle.

When we reached security, we both flashed the passes we had hanging
around our necks. Looking at them, the same bald guy who had grabbed
Allen’s ass earlier waved us through. Making our way along the side
of the stage, we finally emerged in a hallway that was cluttered
with roadies starting to break down the gear.

Doing the Wayne’s World thing and flashing our passes at everyone we
came across, we finally came to a pair of doors set next to each
other. Knocking on the first door, I recognized the guy that
answered to be Avril’s guitarist. “Where’s Avril?” I asked politely.

“Next door, pal,” he answered gruffly before closing the door in my
face. Just before he closed the door, I craned my neck and saw that
the guys in the band had their own little party going on. I counted
5 naked women and heard the voices of at least two more just in the
couple seconds the door had been open.

“See, that’s why I wish I had been born with some kind of musical
talent. Guys in bands get laid no matter what they look like,” I
said as we moved over to the next door.

Knocking on the door that the guitarist had claimed was Avril’s, we
were rewarded by hearing Avril yell “go away.”

Not one to give up easily, Allen knocked again. This time Avril
answered “The guys are the next door over, so try that one.”

Knocking a third time, Avril finally opened the door. “I told you
that the guys are next door,” she said as she popped her head out
the door.

“We know, we knocked on that door and they told us to try this one,”
Allen explained.

“You two don’t look like groupies to me,” Avril said, inspecting us
with her eyes.

“We’d be happy to be groupies, just not with the male members of the
band,” I quipped.

“Those passes look like they came from the radio station,” she
observed. “The rest of them came through for the meet and greet
before the show. How come you weren’t here?”

Looking at Allen, I angrily asked “There was a fucking meet and
greet, and you didn’t tell me?”

“The chick at the front desk of the radio station didn’t say
anything about getting here early for a meet and greet,” he
answered.

“Tough luck boys,” she said, making to close the door on us.

“Wait,” I protested. When she stopped and held the door open, I
continued “My friend here fucked up, but we’re both big fans.”

“I’m tired, I’m sweaty, and I want a shower. I already spent two
hours before the show dealing with all the people the radio stations
gave tickets to. Right now I just want to shower and get on my tour
bus so I can move on to the next city,” she explained.

“Allen here keeps saying that he’s your skater boy, and that you’ll
fall madly in love with him,” I blurted out.

“Dude, you’re not supposed to say that in front of her,” Allen
hissed at me.

“You need some help then Allen,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“It’s just a joke,” Allen said, trying to cover his ass. “Joe here
is always saying that Elisha Cuthbert is his future wife, so I say
that you are. It’s just an inside joke between the two of us.”

“Elisha’s great,” she said, beaming at me. “You’ve got great taste
in women, Joey.”

“Thank you,” I returned. “You know Elisha?”

“I used to watch her on ‘Popular Mechanics For Kids,’ and then when
the CD came out I heard through the grapevine that she liked it. I
wrote it off as just a rumor, but then she showed up at a concert I
did recently in LA. She came backstage and I got to talk with her
for a while. She has to be one of the coolest people I’ve met,”
Avril said, smiling as she told the story.

“Is she really as perky and bubbly as she seems in the interviews
I’ve seen with her?” I asked, intrigued by this new development. You
could also say that I was highly aroused at the thought of Avril and
Elisha alone backstage, and what an erotica writer might be able to
come up with about what happened.

“She really is. You can’t help but feel your mood brighten up when
she speaks. I’ve talked to her a couple times since, and each time I
feel better afterward just for having spoken to her,” she said.

“I can’t believe I’m standing backstage talking to one of my
favorite celebrities about my absolute favorite celeb,” I said,
getting excited.

“I’ve got some time to kill, you guys might as well come in,” she
said, opening the door wide for us to reveal her in the same pair of
black cargo pants and black wife beater tank top that she’d been
wearing on stage. Pointing at Allen, she said “But if he even
touches me, I’m beating the crap out of him.”

Walking past her, through the door, I said “He’ll be behave himself
or I’ll kick his ass for you.”

“You couldn’t kick my ass,” Allen told me.

As he walked past both us, I lifted my foot and kicked him in the
ass. “There, I just did.”

“Do you two fight like this all the time?” She asked.

“Yeah, but only about stuff that matters,” I explained. “Like the
time he said that The Matrix didn’t make sense. I had to explain the
whole movie to him in itty bitty words and he still couldn’t get it
through his head that the world as we know it was just a computer
program that Morpheus and the others were trying to abolish.”

“Great, I let a couple geeks in,” she said, rolling her eyes at us.

“Can I get an autograph?” I asked, pulling off the t-shirt I had
bought earlier. Straightening out the Black Sabbath shirt I had put
on in the morning, I handed her the shirt.

“Sure,” she said, grabbing a Sharpee off the table next to the
couch. After she had scrawled her name on the white shirt just below
the collar, she handed it back to me.

“Now I’m not going to be able to wear it, but then I would’ve just
worn it around the apartment anyway,” I said as I stuffed the shirt
in the back pocket of my jeans.

“Do you want one too?” She asked Allen.

Sheepishly, he held up his own shirt and said “If you don’t mind.”

Taking the shirt from him, she signed it in the same place she had
signed mine. Handing it back to him, she said “I hate to rush you
guys, but I really do need to take a shower.”

“Can I give you my e-mail address?” I asked.

“You can give it to me, but I can’t promise to keep it,” she said,
getting ready to push us out the door.

Writing my address on a piece of paper that had been sitting on the
table with her Sharpee, I picked up the paper and handed it to her.

Looking at it, she raised an eyebrow and asked “Why does this look
familiar? Do you send me e-mail or something?”

“No, I’ve never sent you anything. I have no idea why it would look
familiar to you. The only place I can think of that I give it out is
one site, but I can’t imagine you going there. It’s a little on the
not so appropriate side of things,” I answered.

The moment I said that, her eyes went wide and she said “Adventures
In Radio.”

With those three little words, I knew that she had been reading my
stuff. To test her knowledge, I said “Richie Tozier.”

“It’s you,” she said. “You’re voodoojoe. I knew I recognized the
address from somewhere.”

Turning to Allen, I said “Go hang out with the guys next door. Tell
them Avril sent you over. They might even let you have one of their
cast-offs if you play your cards right.”

“But I want to talk to Avril,” he protested.

“You can talk to me later,” she said. When he had left, she
continued “I’m guessing he doesn’t know about your hobby.”

Shaking my head, I said “No, that’s why I sent him out of the room.
You’re the first one to know my secret identity.”

“I should have known the moment you went all fan boy about Elisha,”
she said, grinning.

“I’m not the only one obsessed with Elisha,” I defended myself.

“Yeah, but you’re the only one who would talk about her like that
when they’re talking to me,” she pointed out. Changing the subject,
she said “I haven’t even logged on to see if the update has happened
on CSSA. Do you know what might be in there?”

“The only thing I know about is TRL did a story about you,” I said.
“It’s pretty good too. It’s you, Michelle Branch, and Vanessa
Carlton playing truth or dare in an elevator at the MTV studios. As
usual with a TRL story, it winds up with the three of you getting
lost in each other’s bodies.”

“I’ll have to read it, but I want to know how you know so much about
the radio business,” she said, lifting herself up to sit on the
table.

“I actually don’t know that much. It’s just me guessing about most
of it. Some I get from listening to DJs and then fill in the blanks
with stuff from ‘Private Parts’ or ‘Frasier.’ I’ve never even set
foot in a building with a radio station in it, let alone an actual
radio studio,” I shrugged.

“I guess it’s only a matter of time before I read a story from you
about my little meeting with Elisha, isn’t it?” She inquired.

“Well, the idea had passed through my head of doing a story about
you and Elisha backstage,” I answered honestly. “The idea is
certainly juicy enough for me to do. It’d have two of my favorite
women in it, some girl on girl action, and mutual fandom.
Unfortunately I’m working on a different story with you right now.
Between that and the appearance you had in Adventures In Radio 3,
I’d rather use someone that I haven’t used before instead of someone
I’ve used twice.”

“You sure you won’t write it for me?” She asked, fixing me with
those blue eyes of hers. “I’d consider it a personal favor to me.”

“Why don’t you write it yourself? You were there, so you’re more
likely to know all the little details. I’m sure there are tiny bits
that you’d forget to tell me about, yet would remember in the course
of writing it,” I offered.

“I don’t have the time to write anything but songs. Besides, have
you ever spent 20+ hours a day on a bus with 3 guys?” She asked,
kicking off her black and white checked Sketchers shoes. When I
shook my head to indicate that no I hadn’t, she continued “There’s
no privacy. I barely get away with reading the stories, let alone
write one. My time is spent sleeping, performing, or being shuttled
from one public appearance to the next. Imagine being stuck at work
with the same people for days on end. No time to do anything but
sleep, eat, and listen to them talk about the groupies in the last
city. If you’re lucky, you stop somewhere after the show and get to
have a little fun. Of course, we don’t leave the building until
midnight, and by then everything’s closed.”

“I don’t know, my plate’s pretty full with my series and a couple
other ideas I’ve got floating around in my head,” I shrugged.

“What if I told you that I really did eat her pussy?” She asked,
leaning in closer.

Changing my tune, I said “I guess if you told me all about it, I
could go through and type it up. Maybe embellish it a little to make
it better for the site, or add a little extra flare. I’m sure I
wouldn’t need to do anything to make it hotter, seeing as how it’s
you and Elisha getting buck wild, but I might need to do some
alterations.”

“I’ll clue you in, but you have to title the story ‘Avril Gets A
Fan.’ If you promise to write it, and title it that, then I’ll give
you all the dirty details,” she said, making an offer that was too
enticing to pass up.

“I’ll do it, but how about if I title it ‘Canadian Girls Do It
Best’,” I countered. “It just has a better ring to it. ‘Avril Gets A
Fan’ would be a little too simple a title, even if it is true.
‘Canadian Girls Do It Best’ conjures better images in my head, along
with the double entendre. What do they do best? Look good? Have
lesbian sex best? Give good performances? You just don’t know.”

“Fine, use whatever title you want,” she said. Then she proceeded to
fill me in on every intimate detail of her encounter with Elisha.
Right from seeing her standing on the side of the stage as she
walked off after the show, to her shaving Elisha’s pussy, to
Elisha’s out of body experience during her orgasm, and all the way
to the two of them locked in a 69 on the floor of her dressing room.

“Wow,” I said when she was done relaying the story. I had taken a
seat on the couch in her dressing room about halfway through the
story. The intensity of the story had threatened to turn my legs to
jelly, so I sat down to prevent that from happening. Shifting in my
seat, I put my hands in my lap trying to hide the bulge in the my
pants.

“You think you can make a good story out of that?” She asked.

“If I can’t, then I might as well quit writing. I’m completely
speechless right now. I never in my wildest dreams would think I’d
be getting first hand information about a celebrity lesbian tryst. I
figured I was destined to only read or dream of such things,” I
answered.

“So, how soon do you think you can have the story ready?” She asked,
impatiently.

“I don’t know, it’d probably take me a little while to be able to
digest the details, then a couple weeks to actually get them down,”
I answered.

“Anything I can do to cut down that time?” She asked coyly, dropping
her voice to very low tones.

Glancing down, I noticed that her tank top was hanging open
slightly. Certainly enough to give me a nice view of cleavage, and I
had to use all my energy to pry my eyes off her tits. Answering her
question, I said “Other than doing it yourself, probably not.”

“You mean there’s no special motivation I can give you?” She asked,
adding extra emphasis to the word ‘special.’

Being completely clueless as to her intent, I shook my head and said
“Nope, I can only write as fast as it comes to me. It might not take
me as long to write it since it’s already in my head. I just have to
rely on my brain to relay it to my fingers as fast as possible.”

Looking at me like I was an idiot, she shook her head in disbelief
and said “You aren’t kidding when you say you’re clueless about
women. I offered you the perfect opening to fuck me, and you
completely missed it.”

“Subtlety is completely lost on me. You have to come out and hit me
over the head with your meaning,” I explained. “Otherwise, it flies
right over my head. Now what was this about the perfect opportunity
to fuck you?”

“If you want to live out the scene in Adventures In Radio 3, you
could call Allen over from next door,” she offered, sliding off the
table and onto the couch to straddle my lap facing me.

“No,” I responded. “Unlike my stories, I don’t like sharing women
unless it’s with other women. I have no desire to have some guy’s
schlong mere inches from my face or crotch. If you want to call him
in for sloppy seconds, then be my guest.”

“You’re no fun,” she pouted as she leaned down to kiss me. Putting a
hand on each of my shoulders, she pressed her forehead to mine and
locked eyes with me. Moving her hands to the sides of my neck, she
tilted her head and pressed her lips to mine.

Since my hands had nothing better to do, I wrapped them around her.
I put one on the small of her back, and I slid the other one up her
spine to the spot just between her shoulder blades. The feel of her
soft lips on mine and her tits pressing into my chest were starting
to make my head swim. Opening my mouth, I lightly bit her lower lip.
Pulling my lips away but keeping hold of her lip, I gently tugged on
it before letting it go. The taste of her cherry lip gloss lingered
on my lips, and I darted my tongue out to lick some of it off.

Leaning back slightly, she ran her hands down my chest and said
“Maybe you could even get a Celebs Meet CSSA story out of this. I
figured TRL or that Carnage guy would be the authors I’d meet, but
you’ll do.”

“Thanks, I think,” I said, not sure if I had been complimented or if
she had just said that I was merely the one who got there first.

“I meant it as a compliment,” she said, reading the confusion on my
face.

“Good. It almost sounded like you were making a list in your head of
authors that you’d rather have had the encounter with, and put me
well down the list,” I answered, pulling her back in for another
kiss. Parting my lips, I ran my tongue out and pressed it against
her lips. Feeling her open in her mouth in response, I slipped my
tongue into her mouth. Licking the roof of her mouth, I moved the
hand that had been on the small of her back down to her ass.

Grinding her crotch against my leg, she used her own tongue to
massage mine. Her hand was making it’s way down to my crotch when
there was a knock on the door.

“Just a minute,” she said, breaking the kiss. As she got up, I could
see the frustration at being interrupted on her face. Opening the
door, she asked “What do you want?”

Hearing Allen’s voice from the other side of the door, he said “They
kicked me out, so I came back to get Joe.”

“He’s busy, come back later,” she said. “Go back next door and tell
them that I said to give you a groupie. I’ll send Joey over there to
get you when he’s done.”

“But they told me not to come back,” Allen whined.

“Come on, I’ll talk to them,” she said, grabbing Allen by the arm
and closing the door behind her.

Getting up, I wandered around the room. Finding a pile of CDs on the
table by the stereo, I flipped through them. Picking out a
bootlegged Ramones compilation CD, I put it in the stereo and
flipped it to ‘I Wanna Be Sedated.’

“Twenty, twenty, twenty four hours to go, I wanna be sedated.
Nothing to do, nowhere to go oh, I wanna be sedated,” I sang along
as I continued to wander around the room.

“I see you found the CDs,” Avril said, from behind me as I was
flipping through her magazines.

“Huh? Oh yeah, I figured you wouldn’t mind me playing some Ramones
while I waited. I can turn it off if you want,” I offered.

“I could listen to The Ramones for days, and have a few times,” she
answered as she walked across the room to stand beside me. “I had to
go make sure the guys next door wouldn’t send your friend back
again. I told them that I’d cut off their backstage passes if they
didn’t keep him until someone came and got him. Rock stars can’t
live without giving out passes to women they want to fuck. Threaten
their supply of pussy and they’ll do anything.”

“Or supply of cock in your case it seems,” I said, grinning.

Laughing, she said “Yeah, don’t threaten my supply of cock. I like a
little pussy now and then, but that’s only when cock’s not
available.” Changing the subject, she continued “Your buddy likes to
complain, you know that?”

“He never fucking stops,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“He was talking about how some security guard grabbed his ass
earlier,” she said.

“He’s still talking about that? He’s backstage at a concert, about
to get groupies thrown at him by rock stars, and he still won’t give
up complaining about being frisked at the gate. I’m going to have to
have a talk with him later,” I said.

“Now, where were we?” She asked, an evil grin creeping across her
face.

“We were on the couch, and I think we were in the middle of doing
this,” I said as I leaned down to plant a kiss on her lips.

“Oh yeah, now I remember,” she said. Rubbing my cock through my
jeans, she said “And I was just about to do this.”

“Yes you were,” I said, shocked at the suddenness of the move.
Wrapping my arms around her, I moved back until my legs were pressed
against the arm of the couch. Leaning back, I fell over the arm and
carried her with me as I landed on the couch with her on top of me.

“Let go of me,” she cried, kicking her legs for effect. Putting her
hands on my chest, she pushed herself up so her back was arched with
her knees on the arm of the couch. Her arms were pressing her
breasts together, creating a pretty awesome sight. The sight of her
obviously braless breasts being pushed out and together, nipples
straining against her tank top, while she looked down at with those
piercing blue eyes was starting to have an effect on me.

“Fine,” I said, throwing my arms to each side. My right arm hung off
the side of the couch, while I put my left hand on top of the back
of the couch to keep it from falling back on her. “I let you go, but
you better do something quick before I come to my senses and grab
you again.”

Sliding down my body, she put a knee on each side of my waist and
settled down to straddle my crotch again. Feeling the lump pressing
against her ass, she said “It looks like someone’s getting excited.”

“I wonder why,” I said sarcastically. “I’ve got a hot teenage pop
star sitting on my lap, with the taste of her lip gloss fresh on my
lips. I’d be questioning my own sanity and sexuality if I WASN’T
getting excited.”

Grinding her ass into my crotch for her own amusement, she grabbed
my hands and guided them to her waist. “Give me a few minutes, and
you just might have something else of mine on your lips,” she
teased, flashing me a devilish grin.

“Who needs a few minutes? I’m ready now,” I said.

Grabbing my hands again, she dragged up her sides before finally
placing them on her tits. Clasping my hands to her bosom, she ground
her ass into my crotch again and said “You’re certainly eager.”

Cupping her tits, I responded “Keep grinding your ass into me like
that, and I won’t be eager for long. I’ll have the embarrassment of
unloading before I can actually get anywhere.”

Still holding my hands to her chest, she leaned down and kissed me
lightly on the lips. Leaning over further so her mouth was next to
my ear, she whispered “I guess I better stop then.” Just as she said
that, she sat up and ground her ass into me yet again.

Fixing her with an angry stare, I pulled my hands off her breasts.
Grabbing the bottom of her tank top, I started lifting it up. As she
leaned down with her hands held out above her head, I pulled it the
rest of the way off. When she sat back up, she smirked at me as I
got my first look at her bare breasts.

Sitting there topless in front of me, she cupped the bottoms of her
breasts. Lifting them up, she squeezed them as if trying to gauge
their weight and mass. Letting them go, I watched with rapt
attention as they bounced and jiggled in front of me.

Reaching up and palming her breasts with my hands, I pinched her
nipples between my middle and ring fingers. As I fondled them, I
muttered under my breath “They’re fucking marvelous.”

Grabbing the back of my hands, she pushed them harder onto her tits
and asked “You really think so? I’ve always thought they were
small.”

As I began squeezing and mauling them, I responded “They’re perfect.
They fit my hands perfectly.”

Sitting up, I moved my hands so that her tits rested in the crook of
my hands between my thumb and index finger. Opening my mouth, I
placed it over one of her nipples. Sucking on the nipple, I flicked
it with my tongue while it was in my mouth. As I sucked on one
nipple, I continued to squeeze her other tit.

Moaning lowly, she grabbed the back of my head and pulled it even
tighter to her chest. Still straddling my lap, she started to swivel
her hips and press her crotch against the lump in my pants.

Letting go of one of her tits, I let my hand trail down her stomach
until it reached the waist of her jeans. Deftly unbuttoning them, I
unzipped her and slipped my hand inside.

Trying to maneuver out of her pants without breaking the contact
between her nipples and my mouth, she raised her ass up slightly
with my help and pulled the jeans down over her ass. From there, she
tried to bring her legs underneath so she was on her knees. When she
had that worked out, she pushed her jeans down to mid thigh before
stretching her legs back out around my waist.

Seeing the hoops that she was trying to jump through, I pulled my
mouth off her tit and lifted her off of me. When she was standing in
front of the couch, I reached out and yanked her pants the rest of
the way down to her ankles to reveal a pair of white boxers with a
big red maple leaf on the front.

“Is that better?” I asked as she stepped out of them.

Pouting, she answered “I wanted to do it my way.”

“Well, this way was easier and I don’t have to feel your knees
threatening to smack me in the balls while your jostling around,” I
countered.

“Fine,” she relented, “I wouldn’t want to smack you in the balls.
That would end my fun before it really even started.”

“It’s nice to know not causing me great pain goes into your
consideration, even if it’s only in there because it would ruin your
fun,” I smirked.

“A girl can’t get all hot and then be left out in the cold, you
know,” she pointed out.

“It’d sure teach them what it’s like to be a guy. They like to get
us going, then roll over and want to cuddle all night. Guys only
like to cuddle if it’s after the sex, not in place of the sex,” I
said bitterly.

“There won’t be any cuddling tonight,” she said, shaking her head.
“I’m going to use you and then throw you out.”

“Sex with a celebrity who will won’t want me to stay and cuddle with
her? That’s every guy’s dream. Well, that and hitting a grand slam
in the bottom of the ninth inning of game 7 of the World Series to
win it for your favorite team,” I shrugged. “For you Canadians, it
would be scoring in overtime of game 7 to win the Stanley Cup.”

Crossing her arms, she asked “Are we going to talk sports, or are we
going to fuck? If you want to talk sports, I could go next door and
find someone to come over here and do it.”

“Sorry, I got off on a tangent there,” I apologized as I sat up on
the couch.

“Don’t let it happen again,” she said crossly.

“I won’t,” I promised as I reached out and pulled her boxers down to
her ankles in one swift motion.

Looking down at her nakedness, she stepped out of her boxers and
said “You keep getting ahead of yourself. Maybe I wanted to keep
those on a little longer.”

“You just looked funny standing there in just your boxers,” I
responded.

Lifting one leg to pull of her sock, she repeated the process with
her other leg until she was completely naked. Looking me over, she
said “Now you need to lose some clothing of your own.”

Kicking off my tennis shoes, I held my arms out to the side and said
“Do with me as you must.”

Rolling her eyes at my silliness, she asked “Are you trying to make
me throw you out before I get anything from you?”

“No, I was just trying to make a joke,” I answered.

“That’s what that was, huh?” She asked, raising her eyebrows. “Now
take off your shirt.”

“Yes ma’am,” I said, saluting her with one hand while I started
pulling my shirt off with the other.

Sighing, she rolled her eyes again and asked “You’re making this
very hard, you know that?”

“Sorry about that,” I said as I finished pulling my shirt off, “I
can’t help but make jokes.”

“You can joke, just make sure they’re worth hearing before you say
them,” she demanded.

“Can do,” I promised.

“Now lets get those pants off you,” she said as she leaned down to
work on my belt. Getting my belt undone, she unbuttoned my pants and
started to slide them down.

Feeling myself being pulled off the couch before I can lift my ass
up, I said “Look who’s the eager one now. At least let me help out
by lifting up so you can slide them off easier.”

“I don’t know how much time we’ve got until we have to leave, so I
want to make sure I get off,” she said, staring at me with those
blue eyes of hers piercing my soul.

Lifting myself up, she pulled my pants down to my knees as I said
“That’s fine, but I’d like some warning before I get thrown around
like a rag doll.”

As she untied my shoes, she said “Shut up and help me.”

Shrugging, I kicked off my shoes without even untying them and said
“I’m lazy. I tie them loose enough that I don’t have to untie them
when I want to take them off.”

Pulling my socks off with one hand, she tugged on my jeans with the
other. When they were off, she looked at me sitting there with just
my smiley face boxers on.

Getting the meaning the behind the look, I lifted myself up and slid
my boxers down over my ass. Sitting back down, I slid them down my
legs and off.

Taking the boxers out of my hand, she held them up so she could look
at all the different smiley faces on them and said “How cute.”

“Thanks, they were on top of the pile this morning so I grabbed
them,” I explained.

Tossing them aside, she climbed back into my lap to straddle me with
a knee on either side of my hips. My cock was nestled against the
bare skin of her pussy. I could feel the lips of her pussy pressing
against the underside of my cock. Wrapping her arms around my neck,
she leaned in and kissed me.

Pressing herself into me, she raised her hips up so that her pussy
was stroking the length of my cock. Feeling the juices from her
pussy starting to leak out, it collected on the underside of my cock
before dripping down to lightly cover my balls.

Reaching down, I lifted her ass up with one hand and positioned my
cock at her entrance with the other. Letting go of her, she let
herself sink down on my shaft. Getting only half of my cock into her
on the first try, she lifted herself up so that only the head was in
her before pushing back down once more. Finally getting it all in,
she sat up and wiggled her hips on top of me.

Reveling in the tightness of her teenage snatch, I grabbed an ass
cheek in each hand and used them to lift her up and down my pole.
Feeling her cunt muscles grip me like a vice as she slid up and down
me, I leaned my head and sucked one of her nipples into my mouth. As
I sucked on the nipple, I could feel her pussy lips clutch onto my
shaft like they didn’t want to let go as she pulled herself off me.

“Oh fuck, that’s good,” she moaned as ‘Blitzkrieg Bop’ started
playing on the stereo.

“Hey ho, lets go. Hey ho, lets go,” Joey Ramone belted out,
accompanied by Avril’s moans of pleasure and the squishy sounds of
my cock slamming into her wet pussy.

“You like my fat cock in your cunt?” I asked her as she fucked
herself with my dick.

“Yeah,” she mewled, closing her eyes and throwing her head back as
she got lost in her own world.

Deciding to take control of the situation, I pulled her off of my
cock. Before she could speak, I set her down on her knees on the
couch beside me. Leaning her over the back of the couch, I got up
and positioned myself behind her.

“Give it to me,” Avril demanded, craning her neck to watch as I
aimed my cock at her waiting cunt.

Wanting to tease her a bit, I ran the head along the length of her
slit. Noticing her starting to push back at me in an effort to get
my cock into her, I pulled back and swatted her on the ass.

“Don’t fucking tease me, you asshole,” she hissed through clenched
teeth.

“Keep it up and I’ll stick it in your fucking ass,” I hissed back.

“Go ahead and fuck me in the ass if you want, just fuck me,” she
commanded me.

Raising an eyebrow, I thought seriously about taking her up on the
offer. Deciding that I wanted to tease her a little more, I slipped
a hand underneath her. Finding her clit with my middle finger, I
applied light contact with the tip of my finger. Seeing her hips
buck in response, I worked my thumb into her wet hole. With
dexterity I didn’t think I possessed, I stroked her clit with my
middle finger to the same rhythm that I fingered her snatch with my
thumb.

“Uhhh,” she groaned as I worked her over.

As she started to shove her ass backward onto my thumb, I pulled it
out of her and dropped to my knees behind her. Moving my thumb to
clit rubbing duty, I stuck out my tongue and lightly licked her slit
from top to bottom. Using my free hand to spread her pussy lips, I
folded my tongue in half and speared it into her waiting hole.

Hunching down over the back of the couch, she pushed her cunt back
at my tongue and fingers. Letting her head hang down limply, her
moans started getting louder as I practically sucked the juices of
her hole.

Figuring that now would be a good time to fuck her for all she was
worth, I pulled my mouth off of her pussy. Keeping my thumb on her
clit as I stood up, I squatted behind her so I could line my cock up
with her entrance. Without warning, I plunged all the way into her
dripping wet cunt.

“Fuck yes,” she screamed, throwing her head back at the sudden
intrusion.

“You like that, slut? You like being my little fuck toy?” I asked,
putting one hand on the small of her back as I started to pull out.

“Yeah, I’m your fuck toy,” she said, turning her head to look back
at me.

“You like have your tight teenage cunt fucked, don’t you?” I asked
as I shoved my tool back into her hot box.

“Yeah, fuck my cunt,” she answered as I pulled back out, really
getting into the dirty talk.

“Like this?” I asked, increasing the tempo.

“Harder… fuck… cunt… harder,” she screamed, her words
punctuated by thrusts of my cock into her pussy.

“You want to cum, don’t you slut? You want to cum all over my cock?”
I asked, slamming my dick into her as hard as I could.

“Gotta cum… need cum,” she answered between moans and screams of
pleasure.

Grabbing her hips with both hands, I started pulling her back onto
me as I thrusted my way into her. Judging by the sounds she was
making and the way her cunt muscles were starting to squeeze me, I
knew that she was getting really close to climax. Wanting to meet
her there, I concentrated on the feel of her cunt clutching my cock
like a glove.

Just as I was on the verge of cumming, I heard a knock on the door.
Wishing she’d ignore it and let me finish, I continued on.

“Leave me the fuck alone,” she yelled at the door, punctuating the
statement with a loud moan.

“Are you in trouble in there?” Came a male voice from the other side
of the door, with a note of concern in his voice.

“No, now get the fuck out of here,” Avril yelled in response.

“The bus is ready to leave, it’s time to go,” the voice answered.

“Give me five minutes, asshole,” Avril screamed as I continued to
fuck her.

When there wasn’t an answer, I figured that the guy had finally
gotten the hint. Just as I was getting back into rhythm, I felt her
pussy clamp down on my cock.

“Cumming… oh fuck,” she screamed as her orgasm finally washed over
her.

Making a couple quick jabs into her cunt, I felt my own orgasm hit
me. Stopping my motion, I arched my back and grunted as my cum was
sucked out of cock by her steaming snatch. I could feel her pussy
muscles milking my cock, trying to empty me of everything.

As we collapsed onto the couch, my cock fell out of her cunt and
sent a stream of our combined juices running down her leg and onto
the seat of the couch.

“That’s going to be a bitch to clean,” I observed, pointing at the
wet spot.

Sighing at my joke, she said “I don’t give a fuck. It’s someone
else’s problem.”

“I guess it’s time for you to throw me out,” I said as I sat up.

“I never did get my shower,” she lamented. “Maybe they’ll let me
have enough time to clean myself up before they drag me out of here.
What did I do with your e-mail address by the way?”

“I think you left it on the table,” I answered as I grabbed my
boxers to slide on. “If you want, I can leave it for you again.
Either that, or you can get it off the stories I’ll be writing. Look
for them toward the end of the month.”

“Stories? I thought you were just doing the one for me,” she said,
perplexed.

“You’re the one who suggested a ‘Celebs Meet CSSA’ story, so I’ve
decided to do one as well,” I explained.

“Oh, I’ll have two stories to read that really happened,” she
squealed in delight.

“If you want to thank me, you could always introduce me to Elisha,”
I said jokingly.

“I’ll tell her all about you. I may even be able to talk her into
meeting you,” she said, her eyes gleaming as she started working
through possible ways to get me and Elisha into her bed at the same
time.

“You get me into Elisha’s pants, and I’ll buy every record you ever
make. Even that inevitable ‘I’m a big star, so I can do anything’
record that winds up sounding like a jazz-lounge hybrid from hell,”
I said as I finished pulling the rest of my clothes on.

“Hmm, a threesome and a fan for life. I can’t go wrong with that
kind of proposition,” she said.

“Well, I guess it’s time I found Allen and went back to the real
world where ordinary stiffs don’t get to fuck celebrities every
day,” I said as I headed for the door.

“You still owe me a good ass fuck,” she called after me.

“I’ll have to pay up some day then,” I said as I opened the door.

“You fucker, you stole my woman,” Allen said when he saw me leaving
the dressing room.

“She’s not your woman, and I doubt you kept your pants on with the
groupies,” I pointed out.

“Was she any good?” He asked, seeing my point.

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” I answered as we set off to find our
way back to the parking garage.

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