Why is that people give Britney such a hard time? She doesn’t dress like a slut on purpose. She isn’t an egotistical bitch like Mariah or Jennifer. And she doesn’t use Justin to get a head with her career. She dressed like that because if she doesn’t, she will get her ass kicked, raped or ignored by us. She isn’t a bitch really, it’s just her way of keeping people away from finding out the truth. Lastly, she doesn’t and can’t use Justin because he’s using her. He’s a fucking faggot. JC always fucks him, I fuck him a few times and even though Lance denies it, he’s fucked him. Chris… they’re having a love affair. I’m not so sure but it is Justin and he fucks just about everything. But getting back on Britney… now that’s a great image… she uses nothing or no one to further her career, whatever is left of it.nextHer hips… tight, small, great hips.
They just scream, “Fuck me. Sex me. Lick me. Touch me. Spank me. Hump me.”
I’m sitting up in my room, checking my email and watching my new DVD: Britney: The Videos. I got “Don’t Let Me Be The Last To Know” on repeat… she’s almost naked! I love it.
But it’s her hips that I can’t get enough of. Hips… the greatest thing God ever stuck on a woman. Breasts are nice, yes, but hips. The word itself is sexual… hi-ps. Need… Pepsi.
I lean over and grab the bottle of Pepsi I bought earlier in the lobby. Geez, I haven’t “played” in a long time. “I’m A Slave For You” comes on. I stick the bottle between my legs and move it up and down slowly at first and then faster, pressing it against my dick.
Her hips move from side to side, up and down, ugh!
I move the bottle up and down, but this is getting to be too much for me. I lean back in the chair, unbutton my pants, slip my hand under my boxers and grab my dick.
I pour the Pepsi on myself, getting my dick slick and sticky. I continue to pump as the extras in the video lick her face. She’s sweating. Touches her hips.
I can’t remember to breathe as I shoot my spunk on my leg and it quickly starts oozing it’s way down.
I wipe it off with a towel from the bathroom and start the shower. I turn off the DVD and watch TV.
Britney dances across the screen singing “The Joy of Pepsi.” Fuck yeah! Pepsi… the best drink to have before you fuck, while you fuck and after you fuck. But now I want to fuck the real thing.
I dial Lance’s number. “Brit with Justin?” He says she is and they’re in his hotel room. I hang up and jump into the shower. I have got to make sure I look good tonight for my date with Britney… I smell smoke.
I peek through the shower curtain and see JC sitting on the counter smoking a cigar. He’s lighting matches and putting them out on his wrist. Quickly, he pulls off his shirt and takes the cigar, burning small circles on his stomach as he smiles at the pain he’s causing himself. He stops for a minute and looks up at me. He’s still smiling. I really do hate him now.
“What?” I can never take a shower in peace.
His smile turns into a devilish one, “The joy of Britney.”
I instantly smile at him. He knows. I know. Hopefully, Britney knows too.
Party time.