With Victoria Justice, in a shop

"Next please", I said on auto pilot from my spot at the till.

I looked up to be greeted by instantly recognisable brown eyes and dark hair, blurting out, "Victoria!" before I'd even realised what I'd done.

In front of me stood Victoria Justice. Now, considering I was a 30 year old British man, working in a clothes store in London, I probably shouldn't even have known who she was. I definitely shouldn't have said anything. But I'm a guy who likes to look at pretty women online, someone who occasionally likes to jerk off to beautiful clothed women as well as slutty porn stars fucking, someone with a surprisingly in depth knowledge of young, gorgeous, female celebrities.

In that moment of shock I ended up speaking before my brain had engaged fully and now I was embarrassed. Seeing her, in the flesh, two feet away, was overwhelming. God she's even prettier in real life! I thought like I was a teenage girl obsessing over her first crush. In my defence, she just looked so much more special than everyone else. Her long brown hair, straight and lustrous. Her teeth white and gleaming, her makeup perfectly applied so as to be almost invisible. Her clothes were the expensive kind of casual, everything fitted for the slim, toned young body they were wrapped around. In short she looked Hollywood - all except for the bored look on her face.

I felt embarrassed for saying anything and she didn't look impressed either - which just made me more nervous.

"I...I'm a big fan", I stammered, as some sort of justification.

Like a switch had been turned on, her expression changed. She almost instantly began smiling, looked me right in the eye - it's hard to hold eye contact with someone that pretty - and turned towards me. You know when you hear of actors who seem to always be 'on'? I imagined that was what this was - she was putting on her public persona.

"Oh really? What's your favourite song?" - if it was an act, it was a convincing one. She seemed genuinely attentive and interested. The effect was intoxicating and I forgot I was even asked a question. Martin, my neighbour at the next till and long time friend, nudged me in the ribs.

"Go on John, what's you favourite song?", he asked, the amusement clear in his voice.

I'll be honest, I was only ever dimly aware that Victoria Justice was a singer, or did anything beyond getting photographed in nice dresses.

"I, um...they're all so good", I said unconvincgly, but she seemed to find that answer incredibly joyous - her smile widened.

"John is more like one of those fans who likes to look, if you know what I mean", said Martin, cutting in. I elbowed him out of the way even as he made the 'wanking' gesture with his hand.

I didn't seem to bother Victoria though,

"Oh, do you think I'm pretty?", she stepped back from the till, as if to give me a look, and stood straight, presenting herself to me. She actually looked apprehensive.

"Beautiful", I gasped. This conversation was turning surreal. She definitely liked that answer and came forward again, leaning over the till. The clothes she was meant to be buying were long forgotten. As she leaned in she looked up at me, through her lashes,

"Sexy too?", she asked, seeming **** for an answer. At that moment there was nobody else in the room, no room at all - just here deep brown eyes, her red lips and the loud beating of my heart.

"Yes!", I said, forgetting where I was.

"How often do you masturbate to me?", she said, her voice still needy.