Some kind of celebrity

Behind the limo's glass, he saw the dreamy face of Celebrity. John felt a tent forming in his pants. He couldn't take it anymore. He tapped on the glass with the back knuckles of his shuddering fist. As Celebrity looked away from her phone's screen, John's knees began to quiver and knock together. How could he be seriously considering this? There was no time to think. By now his chub had upgraded to a fully inflated throat grinder. Celebrity's lips were begging for a good humping.

"Excuse me," said John, rubbing and pinching his engorged helmet through the fabric of his jeans and trying not to drool.

"Oh, hi," said Celebrity, glancing at John's pronounced bulge before quickly darting her eyes upward in embarrassment. "I didn't know I had fans like you."

"Do you mean **** fans with way too much cum in the chamber?"

"What?!" she yelped. "Oh no, you must be one of those mouth pounding starlet gaggers my daddy warned me about! Are you going to splatter my tongue with your jizz after jackhammering my little face?"

John made his best effort to appear insulted. "God no! Not me personally. I have no interest in doing any... you know... that kind of stuff. Not to anybody, but especially not you. I just really have to... go pee. It's a bladder issue."

"Are you sure? Then what is that boner-shaped mound you can't stop kneading and squeezing? And why do you keep slowly moving your hips back and forth in rhythm?"