Empire State of Mind

Monica Hughes was surprised when SupaStorm didn't show up with his "StormChasers"-the muscular entourage that seemed to follow him around everywhere. It was weird seeing him all by himself as he walked into the studio just a few blocks from the Barclays Center, where she saw him in concert earlier in the year. He was much shorter in person-almost her height of 5'6"-and nowhere near as animated as he was in his great performance that night.

"Hi, I'm Marcus," he said quietly, reaching to shake Monica's hand. He had a great smile, a sexy, dark complexion and gorgeous dreadlocks; Monica imagined what it would be like to run her fingers through his dreads.

"Not SupaStorm?" Monica asked, her brown eyes brightening.

"No, no," he replied, marveling at how long her straight red hair was. "Onstage, yeah, but offstage...just Marcus Johnson."

"OK."

"So, what part of Australia are you from? Never been down there, but we have shows in Sydney and Melbourne before this tour wraps up."

"Oh, I'm from Brisbane, in Queensland."

SupaStorm smiled. "From Brisbane to Brooklyn, from Queensland to Queens! That sounds good, right?"

"Wow," Monica replied. "It can come to you that quickly?"

SupaStorm blushed. "Kinda."

"Oh, sorry I'm late!"

Gloria Gold burst through the studio door in a frenzy and but her bags on the desk. The famed photographer ran over to shake SupaStorm's hand, then Monica's. "Congrats to both of you!" she said, brushing her long blonde hair out of her face. "Number one album and single in the country, and the new face of Gypsy Jeans!"

SupaStorm and Monica both nodded humbly. Monica still couldn't believe she had landed the Gypsy gig, nor could she believe that the biggest name in hip-hop was joining her on this photo shoot.

"Well, let me get set up, and you guys can change over there."

"OK," Monica replied. "Can I change with him?"

"Sure."

SupaStorm was shocked, but he didn't say anything as Monica grabbed his hand and led him to the studio dressing room. They quickly switched out of their clothes and put on Gypsy jeans and T-shirts; Monica was loved seeing SupaStorm's rock-hard chocolate chest up-close before he put the T-shirt on, while SupaStorm's eyes danced at the sight of Monica's large, pale, pert breasts-covered by a light-blue bra-and her curvaceous body.

Gloria took a few test shots before shooting the soon-to-be iconic images for Gypsy's ad campaign: SupaStorm and Monica embracing, SupaStorm caressing Monica's bare feet, Monica feeling SupaStorm's large bicep. Gloria snapped several sexy poses before Monica came up with an idea of her own.

"How about one without the T-shirts, with both of us topless, and him feeling on me?"

"What?" said SupaStorm.

"Oh, come on," Monica replied. "Look..."

Suddenly, she whipped off her T-shirt, removed her bra and walked in front of him, grabbing his hands and placing them on her large tits. "Now, I want you to kiss me on the neck."

"Monica..." SupaStorm whispered.

"Hey, you think that would look sexy, right?"

"Sure," smiled Gloria. "Real hot."

"OK...come on, Marcus, just go with it, will you?"

"Well..."

"Come on, Marcus. You know I'm a fan, right?"

She then recited, word for word, the lyrics to his chart-topping single, "Lyrical Miracle." Marcus was stunned to hear his own words recited back to him in her beautiful Brisbane accent: "SupaStorm taking lives like a disease/Warring on y'all like the Vietnamese/Wiping y'all off the map, deaf to your pleas/Bringin' all competition down to their knees..."

"Oh my God!" said an impressed Marcus. "White girl got some skills!"

"Comin' up from Down Under/pounding loud like thunder!" Monica rapped. "See, I can make it up just like that, too!"

"Damn, girl."

Monica winked. "You're my favorite rapper, you know that, right?"

"Guess you are."

"So, will you do this for me? Please?"

"Sure!"

Whatever hesitation SupaStorm had about kissing Monica faded away; he planted his cute lips on her pale neck and groped her breasts as Gloria snapped away. Monica could feel SupaStorm's hard-on pressing against her ass, and couldn't restrain a smile.

After the shoot ended, Gloria said she had to run to another appointment, and told SupaStorm and Monica to shut the studio door firmly behind them before they left. She grabbed her things and hurried out just as quickly as she came in.

"Well, it's only us now," Monica cooed.

"Yeah."

"Hey, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure," said SupaStorm, who couldn't figure out why Monica wasn't rushing to put her bra back on.

"Did you mean what you said on 'Sweat Shop'-that a girl who wants to be with you has to have a great head game?"

"Uh...look, I know I say a lot of, uh, raunchy stuff about the females..."

"That's not what I asked you."

"Well, uh..." SupaStorm paused. "Uh, uh...yeah, kinda."

Monica flashed a huge smile. "Well, I can't help wondering what you think of *my* head game."

Monica grabbed SupaStorm's crotch as if she were SupaStorm himself on stage. She yanked down the zipper on the Gypsy jeans, pulled them to his knees, tugged at his black boxers and exposed his steely ten-inch black cock. Her knees slammed onto the floor as her pink tongue teased, prodded and licked his dark cock-head. She dug her fingernails into his ass as she sucked furiously; he groaned with extreme pleasure as his cock reacted to her darting, dancing tongue. Within minutes, he felt his cum surge from his balls; Monica swallowed as much hot man-cream as she could, before kissing Supa-Storm's cock-head and flashing a sexy smile.

"So, how was my head game?"

"The best I've ever fucking had!" yelled SupaStorm. He looked down at his pleased cock; he had hooked up with some of his backup dancers, but in terms of their head game, they were rank amateurs compared to this lovely pale-skinned redhead Australian beauty. SupaStorm knelt down to kiss Monica on the cheek.

"Monica," he whispered.

"Yes?"

"I've never had a white girl in one of my videos. Would you like to be the first?"