She does

"Hey John, thanks for hanging around, I know you wanted to spend more time talking, but I have to kind of move these things along, you know?" she tells you as she comes around the other side of the table smiling at you, not noticing the way you are leering at her.

"It's always nice to find out that someone's favorite artist is as nice in person as they expect them to be," you tell Whitney, trying to hide the bulge that is growing in your pants as you stare at her long legs and try to figure out how you're going to get between them tonight.

"I'm not doing anything right now and my husband is off doing guy stuff for the night, so how would you like to have dinner with the girl you're obviously so infatuated with?" she asks you as she punches something into her phone and invites you onto her bus.

"I'd love to Whitney, but could I also bother you for some autographed stuff?" you ask her as you follow her onto her bus, hoping to pull this off as well in reality as it was playing out in your head.

"Wait here, I've got the autographed stuff in the back," she tells as you she winks at you, clearly flirting with you, at least she is in your own mind, as you watch her tight ass and long legs in those shorts and quickly go lock the door to her bus before you follow her to the back of it.

"Hey...why...are...you...back...here??" she asks you as she returns, handing you the packet of autographed CDs and pictures as you trap her against the wall of her bus and grab between her legs.

"It's not the pictures or the CDs, or even your autograph, that I want Whitney," you whisper to her as you grab her hips and pull her shorts down in one motion, "it's your pussy I came to get, baby. And I'm about to get what I came for."