Hunger & the Caterpillar
IMPROV # 3: Thinkin' About Marshall
She had to admit, she'd been clutching the piece of paper tightly ever since she'd written it down, but she didn't even need to read it to recite the number.
Why'd she even gone to his room in the first place?
Well- she'd been horny and she *knew* he'd deliver.
Or he *would* have had he not been all with the flue.
She had to admit, she'd always wondered about him- if he could deliver. If his bark was as good as his bite- and it *had* been. She was going mad just remembering the power in his thrusts. He was a man that commanded attention- on stage *and* in bed- or on the floor in her case.
But she'd always wondered about him- even when she was younger and she *shouldn't* have thought about him. Even when she was taken, she'd occasionally imagined.
Fitting that Eminem would be Britney Spears' downfall.
And he was too.
She felt it in her bones.
She was hungry for him.
She didn't understand why thought. Perhaps it was because that night in the limo- she'd felt freer than she ever had. Maybe it was because he hadn't treated her like Britney Spears. Perhaps because she'd just been a woman and he'd been a man and that was that.
She'd been daring and wanton and had desperately wanted him as much as it appeared he wanted her.
She wasn't sure if perhaps he'd just wanted *some*body. Had he even known, before he'd opened his eyes, that it was her?
So many questions plagued her mind, but the one thing that remained constant was that the little piece of paper she was clutching in her palm and those ten digits she'd memorized.
One week had passed since the Grammy's.
Was that long enough to get over the flu?
She certainly hoped so as she dialed the number from heart.
"Speak," his voice demanded and a shiver ran up her spine.
"Ruff ruff," she imitated a puppy dog. "Although I thought *you* were the puppy."
"I ain't *no* puppy," he corrected her. "Although I was startin' to think you'd pussied outta callin' me."
"I *have* a pussy," she replied slyly.
"And a potty mouth too."
"Like you should talk," she commented. "So, um… where *are* you?"
"Good ol' Motor City, you?"
"I'm actually in New York, meetin' with a possible new label."
"Don't like Jive?"
"They don't like *me*," she stated. "But I-" just *thinking* about him made her quiver. "Don't wanna talk about that."
"Are you hungry?" He asked.
"Huh?"
"You hungry? I know a *great* place."
"Oh yeah? Where? Detroit?"
"Nah- in New York. I'll come to you."
"I guess we'll wait and see if you come."
"Oh I will," he laughed.
"What place?" She inquired.
"It's called Britney's All Night Buffet." And the tone of his voice gave it away. It told her he was just as hungry as she was for him.
"Where you stayin'?" He asked.
* * * * * * *
Britney was laying on her bed in the hotel trying to write lyrics that wouldn't come. She was getting frustrated and beginning to think she was fooling herself if she thought she could write her own songs and actually *be* an *artist*.
She was starting to think she should just give up on the idea of actually writing her own stuff.
<Knock. Knock.>
Her heart skipped a beat. Had he actually *come*?
"Just a minute!" She called and threw her notebook on the bed.
Was it him? She wasn't sure if he'd really come, even though he said he would.
She opened the door with a sexy smile to find Fe standing there. "Expecting someone else?"
"Uh- no. I just… ordered some food and- what's up?"
"Just thought you should know you're going home tomorrow."
"*Tomorrow*? NO- we- I can't. I have- *plans*." Although she wondered if it was smart to make plans, keep the plans or *worry* about these particular plans. If he even showed up at all. He'd probably just been delirious when he said he'd been thinking about her.
"Plans? What plans, Brit? I'm you assistant. I know all your plans and you don't *have* any."
"Well- I'm allowed to make my own. I just- I wanna stay here for a few days and relax."
"In New York City? Relax?"
"I'm gonna have fun," she stated. "Ya know- *fun*? So you go ahead and I'll take care of getting myself home."
"Brit-"
"I'm *more* than capable of calling the airport and using a credit card. Now *go*!" Britney pushed her assistant out the door. She loved Fe, but she just wasn't in the mood.
<Knock. Knock.>
"FE! I'm seri- hi," she said, startled.
"Expectin' someone else?"
"No, Fe was just-"
"I know. I was hidin' behind a plant."
"Oh."
"Gonna invite me in?"
"Oh, yeah. Sorry. I just-" He entered the room and she locked the door behind them. *Then* she ran to the bed and grabbed the notebook from his hands.
"What's that?"
"Nuthin'. I wasn't sure you'd come."
"Haven't yet, but- I got hope." And his eyes got dark and lustful as they slid down her body and back up.
She threw her notebook across the room before grabbing his neck and yanking him toward her to capture his lips hungrily.
He seemed just as hungry as she was when his arms curled around her body and struggled to pull her legs around his waist.
They toppled backwards onto the bed as their hips greedily collided.
"We shouldn't be doin' this," she gasped as one of his hands found its way under her tank top.
"I shouldn't be here," he stated.
"Shouldn't feel so good."
"But it does."
"It does," she agreed and started pushing his shirt up his body. She really needed to feel his flesh. She hadn't really been able to touch him the last time or explore his body.
He pulled her tank over her head and his mouth feverishly latched onto one of her breasts, engulfing it entirely.
Brit moaned his name as she struggled to get his shirt up. "Get up," she growled desperately. He sat up and she yanked his shirt off and her hands slip up to grasp his hard biceps as he held her tightly against him.
She felt the hard bulge in his jeans under her and she was about to rub him when she found herself pinned underneath him. "Uh, uh, uh," he scolded her. "I do believe it's *my* turn to peak at the goodies."
With that, he slid down her body, inch by inch, like a caterpillar moving toward a juicy…
Britney whimpered in excitement as he pulled her sweats down and she was glad she'd been lounging around without underwear.
"Why Ms. Spears!" He gasped. "Wouldn't think you'd go commando."
"Wouldn't think I'd fuck Eminem, but I am."
"Touché."
"Or I *would* be if he'd *let* me. I mean- call for a booty call and- and-" she whimpered as he silenced her by pushing two fingers inside her. A small gasp escaped her lips when he pumped them inside her and a look of rapture swept across her face.
She nearly went crazy when she felt him spreading her labia with one hand followed by the touch of his tongue to her swelling flesh.
"Oh my god," she groaned. No guy had *ever*- she'd clearly been seeing the wrong guys.
She rocked her hips on his fingers as they soon took on a rhythm of their own as her body sought release, independent of anything she could do.
And *jus* as she was about to explode, she found her wrists pinned above her head with the familiar weight on her hips holding her down.
His lips descended upon hers and she eagerly accepted his tongue, covered in her own juices. He kissed her hungrily and left her lips swollen.
"Ya know," he whispered as he bit her neck lightly and kept her exactly where she was, "didn't think you'd have the guts to do whachu did."
"Uh huh," she groaned, desperately trying to thrust up into him. Her body was on fire, caught, suspended between passion and insanity.
"To think," he said, before capturing her lips fiercely. His tongue plundered her mouth and her body arched up to his. "I actually *bought* the virgin thing."
"Not a virgin," she whimpered when he thrust his jean-clad hips against hers.
"I know, which leaves me to all sorts of nasty conclusions."
"Em?" She asked.
"Yeah?"
"Shut the fuck up," she growled before bucking her hips forcefully. She grinned almost sadistically when he lost his grip on her wrists and she flipped him over.
She wanted to feel him. *Needed* to feel him. She ran her hands up his chest and down his arms. Her fingers danced across his abdomen as her tongue outlined his jaw and lips.
Her mouth hungrily slid lower as she inched her way down his body slowly. First, she greedily sucked on his collarbone and then further down to fiercely attack each nipple. His hand clutched her head to his body as his other hand squeezed and massaged any part of her body that he could reach.
Before Britney even knew what she was doing, she'd unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them and his Calvin Klein's down his hips. But what shocked them both the most was how quickly her mouth was feverishly sucking his manhood.
"Christ, Brit," he half-whimpered, half-growled as his hands gripped her hair tightly and his hips unconsciously thrust up, pushing him future inside her starving mouth.
Her tongue tasted and licked his hard flesh as her hands grasped and massaged his thighs and she couldn't remember a time when she'd felt so wanted. Couldn't remember a time when she'd had so much power. Her *mouth* gave her power over him. It was a rush for her.
"STOP!" He screamed two seconds before coming in her throat.
He hoisted her up and flipped them over. Before she knew, he'd buried himself deep inside her quivering wet channel. "Oh god," she mewled.
Her body ignited with a hunger she'd never felt. Her skin screamed for his touch. Her breasts ached for his mouth. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he pumped his hips against her and brought him closer, close enough to kiss him passionately.
His entire body seemed to devour hers and he swallowed her moans and screams of pleasure in delight, as if he'd never tasted something so sweet.
"Em, god- please. I- can't- I-"
"Let it come," he said, before silencing her with his lips.
He leaned forward a bit and it changed the angle of his penis to provide an extraordinary amount of pressure to her channel as he ground against her clit and a few thrusts were all her body could handle.
Her orgasm shot through her body, pushing her hips up to meet his final thrust. She accepted his cock and the sticky it pumped into her body.
When she was able to think enough to unhook her legs from around his waist, she didn't. He felt good pressed against her, his weight pushing into the mattress a bit.
"Christ," he groaned.
"Yeah," she sighed and slowly rolled off her. She rolled onto him and asked excitedly, "Can we do it again?"
"My, my, Ms. Spears. Has the caterpillar finally turned into a butterfly?"
"Yeah. And she's hungry for some meat." Her hand snaked down his body to start stroking his cock to hardness.
"Brit? Butterflies don't eat meat."
"*This* one does," she replied sassily.
"So I noticed, Ms. Spears. So I noticed."
~*~
Author: crazyevildru@yahoo.com
These stories are for entertainment purposes only. They are completely fictitious, and the authors mean no harm to EMINEM, his family, friends, or anyone else that may have been depicted as a 'real life' character. No money was made on the fiction here, either directly or indirectly, i.e. paid advertising. In other words - it's just a bunch of shit we wrote for fun. Please don't take it seriously.