She totally forgot about singing and dancing along to the song and just stared, her mouth-watering as Miley danced, shaking her hips and dropping low every once in a while. God, how she looked forward to meet her backstage. She wondered if she would be able to contain herself, or just jump right on her the second she saw her. The show finally ended after Miley ran off stage, only to run back out and do two encores, See You Again and The Climb, before sinking below the stage on a platform as fireworks surrounded her. The stadium started to empty, with thousands of screaming and crying fan girls walking out. When the stadium was almost empty, she got up from her seat and began to make her way towards the stage, where a security guard esc0rted her backstage. She could see dozens of crew members walking around, talking loudly with each other or gathering equipment from the show. She could see the red Harley Davidson motorcycle Miley used during her cover of I Love Rock and Roll being. I think about how badly I want to remove the line, break the line, adjust the line again. I breathe heavier as he grabs my wrist, pins me down, sucks gently on my neck. I feel like I’m going crazy as I feel his fingertips travel up my inner thigh, up to my navel. I scratch his back, I gasp, I feel like a prisoner in my own body craving the climax. I feel him undo the button on my jeans, tugging them gently down until my legs are free. I’m vulnerable, lying there, subject to the complexities of the little game we’re playing. His hand moves up my inner thigh again. I feel myself shake, needing it, wanting it, having to have it as I feel his lips travel the length of my body to the most sensitive part of me. I feel myself gasp, outside my own body, my hands digging into the back of his neck, grabbing for his shoulders. It’s indescribably amazing. I have the feeling of his lips, his skin, his hands, making me quiver, giving me the goose bumps that have pebbled the skin of my body. My.
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