Celebrity Scents Ch. 02

Story Info
He gets to try his new ability on Taylor Swift.
5.7k words
4.59
22.2k
31

Part 2 of the 3 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 12/03/2016
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

By way of work, and school, I had the opportunity to fly to New York for a while in the week following my "discovery" for an internship. I won't go into the details of my profession, beyond describing that this internship would put me in contact with quite a few rather well known people.

I had been looking forward to the trip all summer--because it's New York, because it's a great opportunity to further my career, and though I didn't like to admit it, because I got to meet famous people. This last part, if I'm honest, I hadn't really cared about a whole lot, at least relative to the experience as a whole. Besides, I imagined, my actual contact with them would be very limited and terse.

However, after that night by the creek with Alice and whatever magic she performed, and after the experiences I had following that night, as the trip grew nearer my mind began to conspire about my new ability.

I tried not to let my mind wander. I didn't want to get my hopes up. Disappointment was more than likely, so I just let myself grow excited for the trip, not the celebrities.

I didn't get to utilize my ability much during the final days leading up to my trip. After those first 14 (16 including Katie and Bianca) encounters, I was too busy packing and getting ready to run into any wanton strangers.

Plans to meet and say bye to people fell through, and I left my home sexually frustrated and anxious to sniff some New York pussy.

Despite my fantasies, there was no mile-high club. It's hard to find someone you're attracted to on a plane unless they're seated close to you, so I spent my flight remembering my times with Bianca and the others... Before I knew it, we were on the ground at that terrible LaGuardia airport.

A cab ride took me to the hotel, and there I was finally able to indulge once more. At the check in, I was greeted by a beautiful young brunette dressed in the hotel's standard uniform: a white button up, and a tight navy skirt with black tights underneath. She wore glasses, and had a electric red lipstick that stood in stark contrast to her pale complexion.

Tall, slender, and sexy. She stared at me. At this point, I had come to know what came next, so I smiled at her. I checked in, slowly, allowing her to stare, to take me in, and then I asked if she could show me the elevator. Of course, she obliged.

In a whispy sexy voice, she said "right this way," and stepped out from behind the desk, gathering a coworker to manage her position. She stared at me the whole walk to the elevator.

My heart raced, hoping no one would join us. They didn't, and as we stopped, waiting for the carriage to descend to the lobby, the desk lady leaned over and smelled my neck.

I smiled knowingly sideways at her, and waited impatiently for that "ding."

When the doors finally opened, I allowed my new companion to enter first. I admired her hips as she stepped inside, and then followed briskly.

The doors were not yet closed when She had leaned against the back wall, protruding her skirt clad ass towards me, waving it for me to join her.

Ignoring my floor, I sent the elevator to the top, giving me time to enjoy Ms. hotel's scent. Then I knelt behind her and, fueled by hours of fantasy and days of frustration, buried my face in her ass.

Her scent was strong and pungent, clearly she had worked long hours in that hot lobby, standing cooped up in those tights. Her pussy musk reigned, but there was a strong scent of ass too. It was not bad, but carnal, sweaty, pungent, so dirty, and incredibly sexy. I had to have more.

As the elevator started its ascent, I hiked up Ms. Hotel's skirt revealing her ass, barely covered by the black tights, and a plain black thong underneath.

She pressed her ass out further, physically begging for more. I bore my face into her cheeks, intaking more of her pungent scent. It was excellent, but I was still not satisfied.

Roughly, I tore the tights, baring her skin, and pulled her thong to the side in a forceful tug that made the maid moan, and dove in once more. As I slathered my nose along her crack, nestling against her anus and then her pussy, her sweat and pussy wetted my face with her aroma.

I felt like an animal, devouring her primal essence, but then there was that "ding" indicating we had reached the top floor.

As the doors slid open I grabbed her hand and led Ms. Hotel into the hallway, and then she was up against the wall again, skirt hiked up, tights ripped, pussy dripping, aching for my cock.

I frantically undid my pants and released my throbbing manhood.

"Put it in me," she pleaded, looking back at me as I began to aim my rod at her entrance. I stood behind her, admiring her pale cheeks and tight puckered hole between them. I inhaled her scent as it wafted up from her privates.

I ran my hand along the length of her sex, sliding the side of my index finger from her clit, past her entrance where I felt myself get coated in cum, and up to her tight little back door and all of its wrinkled sweaty glory.

I brought my hand up and smelled her. God, she smelled good. I let her know.

"You smell so good. You smell filthy,"

"Yeah?" she moaned, "I've been standing at that desk all day. I'm so fucking horny. So fucking hot. Please put it in me. Fuck me. I need it."

Ms. Hotel was moaning, gyrating her ass at me, I had to have her. It was all so hurried and frantic. What if someone were to come by? That made it all the hotter. One last look at her ass, and a pleading moan, and I impaled Ms. Hotel on my cock.

She was not as tight as Bianca, probably because she was not as petite, but her sopping cunt gladly accepted my member, and on the first thrust I was buried to the hilt in stranger pussy.

There was no settling into a rhythm here, from the start I fucked her hard and fast, pumping my cock in and out of her cunt, until my pelvis slapped her ass. Ms. Hotel moaned with a sense of fulfillment that made apparent how much she needed this.

"Fuck your ass is so hot," I complimented her, as I watched shockwaves ripple through her perfect cheeks with each forceful thrust.

"Slap it," she begged.

Slap it I did. The sound of my spanking reverberated through the hall, followed by Ms. Hotel's moans. She forced herself further onto me.

I continued to admire her ass while I pounded her and loved the way her little hole peaked out with each thrust. I placed my hand on the small of her back and rested my thumb on her back door, in that position where it feels like your hand belongs.

"Yes!" Ms. Hotel screamed at the new stimulation.

I responded my fucking her harder, and within a few thrusts, this pushed Ms. Hotel over the edge and she shook violently against my cock.

As she shook, I grew close myself, until I was at the point of no return, and then, as if she had read my mind (or my cock, as it were), Ms. Hotel flipped around and took me in her mouth. It was a sight to behold.

My cock was absolutely coated in Ms. Hotel's cum. I could smell her scent rising from my crotch, and she took me in her mouth, tasting herself, sucking off her own filthy essence from my throbbing cock that had just impaled her.

That's what did it for me, and I came, shooting a saved up load into Ms. Hotel's mouth as she savored the mixture of our fluids.

I had barely finished ejaculating when the ding of the elevator rang again. Ms. Hotel jumped up, and we both covered up in a panic, trying to act natural as the new guests walked through the cloud of sex that inevitably hung in the air.

Even as she fixed her hair and adjusted her skirt so the torn remnants of her tights were not noticeable, I got the sense that Ms. Hotel had not had enough. Indeed, I hadn't either. I found myself wanting to indulge in her ass once more, and ravage her over again, but we were silent as we got on the elevator.

At floor 6, I got off for my room, but Ms. Hotel held the door and looked to make sure there was no one in the hall.

"I'm off at 11," she whispered, reading my mind.

I smiled, "you know my room," and I reached behind her and slapped her ass before walking off for a rest.

This encounter is not the main subject of my story, but it's memorable, and I find it resurfaces in my mind, so I thought to include it. After all, my adventures with Ms. Hotel, or Michelle, as I would later find out her name was, were not over. She would contribute a great deal of joy on my trip. Bear with me, as there will be more of her.

When I got to my room, thoroughly fucked and exhausted, I settled down with my computer, sniffing the remnants of Ms. Hotel on my hand, and prepared myself for a busy day in the morning.

My heart jumped as I read the emailed itinerary. My first job was on a shoot for Taylor Swift.

Of course, reading on, it sounded like I might not even see the starlet, but I could not help myself from imagining the possibilities. I tried to remain objective, to keep my hopes realistic. Sure, I had been lucky these past few days, but these were all average people, attractive though the were.

I imagined someone with such celebrity would have higher standards for whatever reason. Still...I wondered what her pussy smelled like...

I fell asleep with my computer on my lap, dreaming of Taylor Swift, and it wasn't until eleven o'clock, two hours later that I was awoken by a knock at the door.

It took a whiff of my hand for my sense to return to me, and I (and my cock) sprung up at attention.

I opened the door as smoothly as my horny self could muster to Michelle standing in her ruffled uniform. She looked like she hadn't quite recovered from our previous encounter. I probably looked similar.

Her hair was a mess, and her once-neat white blouse was wrinkled and unbuttoned at the top. She held in her hand a bottle of champagne and two glasses.

"I brought some room service," she smiled, "no tip necessary...orrrr maybe you can tip me in some other way," she mentioned suggestively.

I smiled and pulled her through the door and into a frantic kiss. She dropped the champagne on the desk and pushed me onto the bed. She stood over me, removing her shoes, and then her torn tights, and then that black thong.

Then she straddled me.

"You know," she said, smiling, and crawling up the bed and me, "I don't know what it is, but the way you...smelled me...just drove me crazy. It's kinda weird, I mean my boyfriend won't even go down on me, and the way you just went for it...It was hot."

I should have felt guilty, but in that moment, being someone's scandalous tryst turned me on all the more. Besides, the way Michelle behaved so ravenously led me to believe that she clearly wasn't getting enough attention from this dead beat.

She continued to progress up my body until she lifted her knees over my arms, and then lifted her skirt to show her sex off to me.

She was now straddling my head and I stared straight towards her cunt and ass, exposed beneath the remnants of her torn tights.

"I want you to do it again."

It sounded as if she was asking as she said this, but she knew she had my permission. Without a word, she settled down, resting her privates on my face.

I felt her heat first, radiating from her core, and then I smelled her scent, pungent as ever and steaming out of her, and then I felt the softness of her lips, and the wetness of her interior as her weight pressed her cunt against me.

I was in indulgent heaven.

Everything about this facesitting got me off. Michelle's skin and weight pressing her soft sex into me, the smell and taste of her pussy, and her enthusiasm, all combined to make make my cock hard as a diamond.

I let Michelle take control, and she was happy to do so. I kept my tongue out and allowed her to slide her swollen clit over my face as she pleased. She proceeded to grind herself against me, hard and fast, getting herself off, and smearing her cum all over, as she brought herself off.

I wanted her to keep it up, I wanted that moment to last, but her arousal made it a short ride, and soon Michelle shook, and spasmed as a wave of orgasmic pleasure overtook her. Then she fell limp against the bed, dragging strings of sticky cum with her as her pussy separated from my face.

I propped myself up from between her legs and looked back at my dripping mistress trying to catch her breath. Her torso and head were flat against the bed and she heaved, gasping for air and relaxation, but her hips were still raised, and her legs were still spread, presenting her cunt to me. There was no time for relaxation quite yet.

I stripped while she maintained this posture, eyes closed, reeling. And then I crawled up behind her. She gasped "oh my!" as I impaled her, surprised and thrilled at the sudden penetration.

From the start I fucked her hard. The room echoed with the sound of her ass being slapped as I bottomed out in her cunt.

"Fuck!" she yelled, bringing a hand between her legs and began to rub her clit.

The room was filled with the smell of sweat and sex. Michelle's aroma was all I could think about as I pounded into her over and over.

Looking down I saw her cum pool up around the base of my cock as she creamed all over me. I slapped her ass, Michelle moaned. I slapped it again, and she came. Michelle shook and yelled, and slammed herself back against me.

I kept pounding away.

"Fuck!" She yelled again.

I pounded harder.

I was getting close, and started shaking as I fucked her.

"Oh fuck! Are you gonna cum?"

"Yeah," I muttered through exasperated breaths.

"Fuck..." Michelle struggled to speak through the pounding. "Cum inside me."

"Yeah?" I muttered again.

"Fuck yeah. I want your cum deep inside me. Please!"

Her begging pushed me over the edge, and I slammed my cock as deep into Michelle's cunt as I could and kept pushing as I erupted. My cock pulsed and spasmed, and I filled her up. Then I collapsed too.

It was late after all, and I was already spent from earlier. I think the pounding had taken it out of Michelle too, so for a time we relaxed and enjoyed the champagne that Michelle had brought over a nice conversation. It was actually nice to talk with her, and regardless of our pleasurable exploits, I'm happy to have met her.

We had one more quiet fuck in the dark of the room, and then we fell asleep.

I awoke in the morning next to Michelle, who was still asleep, still naked, and still covered in dried remnants of my cum that speckled across her back. I admired her form for a moment and contemplated waking her for a morning quickie, but my clock dictated otherwise, so I dressed quietly and slipped out of the room.

I left Michelle a note, giving her a greeting and a phone number. Then my day began.

I realized, walking out onto the busy streets that I hadn't managed to leave the hotel last night, and intook for the first time in a while the wonderful atmosphere of Manhattan. My hotel was close enough to walk to my job, so I stopped briefly at Blue Bottle for a pick me up and enjoyed a stroll of a commute.

Or at least I tried to enjoy it. I live in a decently sized city, but of course it doesn't compare to the population or density of New York, and the sheer volume of people on the streets led to a unique problem.

The amount of attractive women who stopped and stared on their walks became quite a nuisance, truth be told. Of course, it's not one I'll complain about, but it took all of my will-power to not stop and engage with each of them. I couldn't be late on my first day.

But I made it, and in a few short, stare filled minutes, I arrived at my new position. The first half of the day was orientation--sitting, listening, taking notes on things that are really just common sense. It was dull--and worst of all, all male.

The people were nice enough, cool even, but I was anxious to get going. Regardless of what fantasies I may have, these sorts of meetings always seem to drag on for an unnecessarily long time. It took about four hours to get to the important part: our tasks for the day.

We're interns, so they ended up being pretty basic--busy work that we have to do to get the line on our resumes--but they were all involved in the actual shoot. We would be helping to make it happen, and most importantly, we would be in the room with Taylor.

I still maintained my reservations. None of us, not even with my ability, would probably be given the light of day by the young pop star. But the idea of helping on such a shoot was cool in and of itself.

For a few hours, we worked without a hint of Taylor's presence, and I actually got pretty into it and almost forgot about all my fantasies, and my new ability. It was only towards the end of the day, when people started talking deadlines, and our pace picked up so everything would be ready for the starlet's time slot that some of those thoughts began to slip back into my mind.

And in the last hour, sure enough, Taylor arrived. I imagine she had been there for a while, but the first time I saw her was very close to the end of the day. She was escorted onto the set, made up, and glistening in some cream colored sequined dress.

It was tight, and hugged her slim form. It must have been made for her. I'd always thought Taylor was tall too, but was underwhelmed by her height, even with some tall heels she was standing on.

An air of superiority radiated from her. She knew she was the VIP, and she knew we were all essentially working for her, but it didn't feel like arrogance or rudeness. Still, I have mixed feelings about Taylor and her music.

My mind has been conflicted for quite some time by a sexual attraction to, and a subtle disdain for the starlet, but I found, and this was even before my new discovery, that every ounce of disdain vanishes when I imagine her sitting on my face.

So I stood, admiring the singer while everything was set. At this point the interns didn't really do much, so I was free to watch, and for quite a while, it seemed that was all I would be doing. Just as I feared, we didn't get the light of day.

Besides, Taylor was busy. Even with all the special treatment, this was still her job, and she was working.

I had resigned myself to enjoying her appearance when one look changed everything.

I guess she hadn't seen me at first, and it had to happen at some point, but I saw it happen as I was watching. With one brief glance, almost in passing, I caught Taylor's eye, and with a brief moment more, she locked onto me.

I knew the look. She stared, unbreakingly, and grinned.

My heart leapt, and pounded in my chest. Taylor Swift was looking at me. Fucking Taylor Swift thought I was attractive. And then another thought--Taylor Swift was going to let me sniff her pussy. And then I panicked--how was it going to work? I was on a set, with hundreds of people, and almost zero privacy. I almost lost hope that anything would happen after all, and desperately tried to find a workable scenario in my head.

All the while, the shoot continued, and all the while, Taylor stared. We were almost done when she noticed me, but that last half hour seemed to proceed at a snail's pace, until finally it was over.

Taylor took off back to her trailer, grinning and staring back at me through the whole walk. At this point I thought I had missed my chance, and begrudgingly followed the other interns to a debriefing, where our supervisor said "good job," and gave us details for the next shoot.

All in all, it took another fifteen minutes, and at the end, I debated going up and knocking on her trailer, but decided it was too risky and started for the exit. I walked slowly, dragging my feet, frustrated and sad at missing such a chance. The other interns and people on the shoot were almost gone when I neared the exit.

12