Britney shows up

LA traffic is awful, and it takes almost two hours before my doorbell rings.

I saunter up to the door and open it. I’m instantly greeted by Chives, holding a huge suitcase in each hand. “Just put those over there for now.” I point to the base of the stairs. The man does so and turns to leave. “Thanks for doing this on such short notice!” I call after him.

A moment after he’s out of eyesight, Britney walks up from where he just disappeared. She’s wearing a frilly white blouse with flowers in the front, and a pair of designed blue jeans. Her blonde hair hangs down straight, framing her pretty face.

I try to not get hard, despite the fact I was just masturbating over her a couple hours ago. Speaking of, I never got to finish....

She steps in the door and opens her arms for a hug. “John! Thank you so much for letting me stay here!”

I hug her back, as is our standard greeting, feeling her firm tits press lightly into my chest. “Of course. It’s no trouble.” We break the hug. “Let’s get your bags upstairs.” I grab both, which are heavier than expected, and lead her up to my guest room.

It’s a pretty plain room, nothing special. Mostly just a bed with a navy comforter and a white dresser. I set her bags on the floor. “Well, here’s your room. Bathroom is just down the hall on the left.”

“Oh thank you so much.” I’m still not sure why she’s be happier staying here than at a hotel. I’m sure we could have figured out how to avoid the paparazzi. My house isn’t bad, and is actually a lot nicer than most, and in an upscale neighborhood. But it’s nothing like the Beverly Hills mansion that Britney is used to.

“Well, I’ll let you get settled in. I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”

I head back down to finish my night’s work. I plop down on my favorite recliner with a packet of papers. There’s a potential big deal here with Pepsi, but it’s super dry reading. Soon, I’ve fallen asleep in my recliner. My dreams are filled with images of schoolgirl Britney.