Hanging in with Celebrities by UK Snowy


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Hanging in with Celebrities


This story, with the names, dates and time included is totally fictitious
and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental

Hanging in with Celebrities by UK Snowy

My first job at 19. I'd only been in the place three days and the boss
ordered me into the back room. "Look after that case. She's a celebrity and
we need someone in here all the time, unless family or accredited people
turn up, We'll advise in that situation," said Phillie McCaverty, before she
waddled away. The news had been cleverly kept from the big papers, due to
the high profile of the people involved, but the massive vehicle pileup and
the resultant casualty list, trauma victims and the comatose was stretching
all the medical resources of this little town in Ireland. Filming in the
mountains had been kept extraordinarily quiet and under wraps such was the
sensitivity of the subject. I knew about it because my father was the chief
security officer.

I had only left college some weeks ago and had drifted with a few decent
qualifications into this job at the McCaverty Medical Research Facility
Looking at the bed and the body lying on it, shrouded in a white cloth, but
clearly breathing, I could see the chest, her chest going up and down I
wondered what I was supposed to do apart from be there. Phillie had left me
in charge, although I'd have followed her anywhere. I'd have licked her arse
clean.

God! she was big and beautiful, like Oprah at her fattest, but with the sort
of milky pale skin that can only come from the mountainous region of this
Emerald Isle. About 250 pounds, say five foot five tall (without the three
inch heels), the neatest ankles, short black curly hair, cherubic smile, big
succulent lips and tits!...well her tits seemed to enter the room about half
an hour before she did. Phillie was always immaculately made up, with bright
red lipstick, usually matching her nail varnish. She had one obvious
blemish, not that it would put me off screwing her, which had happened when
she was ten on a cycle accident. Her third finger on her right hand was
missing and her second finger had quite a scar from the same accident. I
knew her from around town as a very successful business woman, inheriting
the business two years ago, from her mother at twenty nine years old. She
was single, vivacious and I would love to wallow amongst what would be very
ample folds, rolls and ripples of her rotund body.

Strolling across the sterile room, thinking about my fantasy sex with
Phillie and wondering what could be seen from the window, like the nurses
quarters, I glanced again at the bed. There was a clip board hanging at the
foot and I idly hinged it up as I paused. It just read WG, age 44, female,
Afro American. Accident coma. The chart below the heading indicated that all
this woman's faculties read OK, but who was WG? I only had to step to the
head of the bed and look, so I did.

"Fucking hell!" I gasped audibly, swiftly looking around to see if I'd been
heard, but I was alone in this quiet white room. The braided beaded hair,
high forehead, wide face, flat nose and huge mouth looked very peaceful as I
let my eyes wander down over the shroud that masked her body from her neck.
She was no spring chicken that's true but she had a kind of statuesque
presence when I'd seen her on the screen. Was she naked under there I
wondered? I took a sneaky peep and found she had a typical green hospital
gown on.

It would be open down the back, but I couldn't risk moving her, yet I was
tempted. Fuck! I hadn't seen a black woman's naked body ever in the flesh so
to speak apart from strippers on a college celebration night in Dublin. I
rubbed my growing cock and wondered and then it dawned on me. If I lifted
the bottom of the shroud I would see up...up her legs and... I looked at her
covered feet, the two pyramids maybe a foot or so apart. Jeez! Easy.

I lifted the top half of the shroud and took a quiet stroke of her chest and
felt the fleshy wobble of her tits. Her nipples felt flat. Daringly, I
fiddled my hand inside the gaping neck of the gown and rubbed it over her
breasts, the warmth, intimacy and sheer excitement of feeling a celeb's
boobs making my cock grow hard. Her nipples were flat, but I could imagine
how they would grow into grape sized bubs when she was aroused. It was then
that I suddenly remembered reading or hearing some salacious gossip or an
intended slur by one of her lovers, was it Ted Danson? Did Whoopi Goldberg
really have an enormous cunt?

To find out, I lifted the bottom edge of the shroud and peeped in as if I
had to be quick, because others were there. But this back room was really at
the back of the complex with one access corridor and if I listened real
close I would hear approaching feet in the corridor. The pinkish orange
soles of her feet first hit me with the contrast against her gleaming black
limbs, but I swiftly peered further, past her chubby knees, over her thick
thighs to her crotch, luckily unhindered by under clothes, but concealed by
the flattened bulk of her thighs which appeared stuck together. I could see
a patch of black curly hair however. I was excited to have the freedom to
roam over a recumbent, mature, naked female of such celebrity stature.

I shoved her legs wide apart, alarmed when the right one slid off the bed,
but alarm turned to delight as the full glory of her snatch was hinged into
view. She had a neat set of pubes, not unruly and not sparse, which framed a
pair of puss flaps that would have graced St Bartholomew's Hospital main
door. I mean they were huge and sort of folded and curled together in a big
untidy knot. I thrust my hand up and felt them. The silky warm texture gave
way under my probing digits and I found my hand slid easily into her cunt.
Dry yes, but accommodating, well- I was up to my wrist.

Pushing harder, my arm went in and I infiltrated my other hand in, making
the shroud slither sinuously off to the floor. It scared me initially but my
other hand was now alongside the first and I was up to my elbows inside
Whoopi. While adjusting my feet to get from the tentative position I started
with, to the positive one I meant to continue in, my arms widened and her
cunt stretched again. I pushed until my biceps were enveloped, examining the
textured, flexibility of her sumptuous labia around them, seeing the lump of
her clitty bobbing at me above my arms. It looked so red and succulent, I
nibbled at it, pushing further. My shoulders widened the impressive portals
to Whoopi's cunt and after a few bites at the black woman's cherry, it was
easier to lower my head and tunnel further.

I managed to get my feet on a bar across the trolley beneath the bed and
hoist my torso up, giving me extra leverage as I eagerly explored the
wondrous cavern that was opening up for me. The purple blackness was
occasionally lit by shafts of light as I manoeuvred my upper body in.
Fucking shit! I was climbing inside Whoopi Goldberg's pussy. What did help
was her natural wetness, which was now becoming more evident as I titillated
the walls of her vagina.

Then I heard voices, but not from the corridor. From inside. Was it really
voices, maybe I'd upset her digestion system and her stomach was rumbling,
after all I was lumbering about above her bowels. Suddenly I was being
dragged inside. I tumbled in upside down and was enveloped in the inky
darkness, my eyes trying to adjust. Hands felt over me, in my crotch and one
gripped my cock hard and lingered for a while and then a voice said. "Fuck
it's a man. Just our luck, but to be expected. And he's fully clothed."

"Who's there?" I whispered. "So she's still at it?" came a different voice,
a younger more nasal tone than the casual, streetwise one. "Still at what?
Look fellas whoever you are. I didn't really want to get in here..."

"Yeah but you are in here and it'll make life easier for us all if you get
rid of your clothing," interrupted the older one. "But I'm not staying
here," I protested. "That's a joke," said the other. "You ain't getting
outta here." My eyes peered into the gloom and I saw a small fat man, naked.
The other much younger, naked too had big black rimmed spectacles and a 60s
haircut.

Both were impressively hung, in fact the younger one was virtually erect and
was cradling his dick as he peered at me and it worried me that they
insisted I got naked too. "Look I don't know who you are and...." They moved
suddenly and the next thing I was stripped and my clothes were being bundled
back through Whoopi Goldberg's labia. I was dead worried that someone would
enter the room and find them and accuse me, but here again they hadn't a
clue as to where I was, but as the light filtered into her cunt, the truth
about my companions became evident at the same time as Whoopi's fanny flaps
closed.

Suddenly I was grabbed, bent over and I felt a cock rammed into my arse. The
pain was excruciating, but I couldn't cry out as another cock was being
thrust down my throat. They fucked me at both ends and I just had to relax
my sphincter and let Buddy Holly ream me. At the same time the lesser cock
of John Belushi was deep throating me and I had to learn not to gag pretty
fast as they quickened the tempo. It seemed to take hours and probably did,
but I grew to enjoy this double meat helping in my first ever homosexual
encounter.

Was I now a celebrity? Inside Whoopi's cunt being shafted by two famous
musical icons, must earn pretty good star ratings. I was bucked and walloped
furiously until they spent and I felt full as their erections gradually
waned, leaving me with a battered mouth and torn arse, but feeling strangely
serene. As they fell away from me, I slid sideways and rolled against the
mucous membranes of the sexy cocoon into a ball and contemplated my future.
Surely they couldn't mean I couldn't escape. They answered for me.

"You'll learn to like it sonny. I'm John and this is..."

"I know who you are," I interrupted. "Just what the fu...?" Buddy looked at
me dismissively. "If you don't listen you won't learn. What's your name?" I
told them Seamus and they asked where we were and I told them. They actually
thought I'd been chosen to fuck her and being kept as a favourite. "Thought
it had gone quiet," mused John stretching and scratching his groin, making
his cock wobble about. He had the most enormous pair of dangling ballocks
too. "We were getting fed virtually every day up to three days ago."

Fed? "Hey what d'you mean fed. And why do you fellas look exactly like your
album covers. You've been dead years." They looked at each other and
grinned. "This is the secret of everlasting life my son," said Belushi with
that mock sincerity straight from the Blues Brothers. "Jism squirts in here,
once that s been penetrated," he gestured towards Whoopi's labia. "And we
feed on it, wonderful stuff if you like salt," he chuckled as Buddy joined
in. " No shortage of the stuff either, so there'll be enough to go round.
Does wonders for your skin too," mocked Belushi rubbing his chin. They did
look remarkable...but.

"So what's with the gay thing. I mean its OK these days, but you still don't
rape a fella like that and I had no idea you guys were gay." I protested,
fiddling with my dangling genitals absently. "Gay? What's with gay. We're
not exactly over the moon about being here," they chorused and I realised
the PC term hadn't been used in their era. I explained and they merely said
Needs must and they fucked each other constantly. Then they asked me what
its like to fuck women these days and we discussed screwing for a
considerable time. I found myself lounging comfortably against the velvety,
membrane fronded walls of Whoopi's labrynthic pussy, at ease with two famous
musicians. As we chatted I gazed around and occasionally to emphasise a
point Buddy or John would prise open a tiny aperture in the thick and
impenetrable, from the inside that is, layers of her big black snatch. Light
would stream in and I wondered on the scene out there.

"What you must never do is be there when she pisses," advised John giggling
as he pointed to a spot near the mouth of the cavern. "Its like a fucking
hosepipe hitting you and it hurts." Looking up at the wall of flesh which
hung from above, I saw Whoopi's urethra and realised I was dwarfed by the
size of it. I was given a guided tour and they pointed out her G spot, high
on the front wall, above her flaps and her clitty. "When she's being touched
up, which is often," chuckled Buddy. "Fingers come in there and swill about,
stay clear, that's easy enough, but when whoever's fucking her at the time
gets his dick in here, it gets tight for space, but we've developed a trick
of climbing up and hanging on those dangly bits there. John kicks her G spot
while I dance on the guys knob. Its not easy, but I'm nimble and there's
plenty to hang on to."

I gazed around, my eyes now accustomed to the strange half light, which had
an inner red glow. Tendrils of glowing dark red fleshy substance hung like
soft stalactites. There was enough body in them to hold, climb and explore
and obviously create the sort of inner titillation a man fucking Whoopi
would like. Below, the floor of her vagina was almost a series of soft waves
and ridges, in which pools of her inner secretions would form and gradually
slither towards her slit. Occasionally, a gland above or behind me would
gloop a drop of the same stuff and it would slide past or over me and the
others, creating a soft bubble around us until it subsided into a gentle
dribble to her pussy gash. The whole atmosphere was warm and cosy.

"So if someone's screwing her its OK? She must get some huge dicks
sometimes, I mean..."

Belushi stopped me and replied, "Don't worry Seamus man. She gets them all
shapes, sizes and colours. We like them all, but watch out for the curved
ones they can really play havoc with the space in here. Had one recently as
a matter of fact." I nodded, remembering the case against Bill Clinton and
his supposed bent pecker and wondering if he'd been the one John and Buddy
recalled. Fuck! He'd been in Ireland on the Ulster mediation thing last
week. Had I followed that randy sod in here? I got up and wandered, looking
at all the folds, the crannies, the blebs, like the mouth ulcers I suffer
from. Imagining a dick thrusting powerfully into the cavern was easy if you
were on the outside, but what activity it caused was only a guess.

"Say... what if she's on... you know - the month..." I started.

"Oh her rag week you mean," chuckled Belushi. He clapped his hands with joy.
"That's fucking superb man. That stuff is really tasty and good for you. Out
there, I loved to eat cunts when the red flag flew anyway." I grimaced but
he continued. "The tampon comes in and soaks it up and she's not heavy.
Buddy tried to hang on to one when she pulled it out, but she caught him and
stuffed him back in. Didn't think you'd make it anyway did you Buddy?" John
sniggered. Buddy smiled and shook his head and saw me gazing far into the
depths beyond him.

"Now that's interesting. You can't see her cervix from there, come here...
See there, that funnel sort of conical thing hanging way way up the top. We
tried to climb up there and see if we could get in, I mean we know the
timings, we could get our white cum right into her little negro seed bed and
who knows what talent might emerge and we could watch it all happen and kiss
our babies as they squeezed by heh heh!" He and Belushi laughed loudly and I
saw the peculiar picture they painted and laughed too.

"It's too high unfortunately, and there's precious few things to get your
hands on. She goes all smooth up there and its fucking high man," added
John. As we chuckled, the new team gradually bonding, with me getting a
chance to shag and suck them both, Belushi was best I don't know how much
time passed we felt Whoopi moving. Maybe she was being discharged from the
Medical Facility, but we were not uncomfortable as we felt her motion and
realised she was walking.

"Wonder who'll be the first one up," laughed Belushi. I told them about
Phillie and wished I was inside her fanny and I was suddenly surprised when
a chubby finger, with red nail varnish appeared, then another two and then
it dawned on me that there were indeed three fingers fiddling about and
thrusting at Whoopi's cunt, but there was a gap - a finger missing and yes
the scar.

"Fuck! It's Phillie McCaverty," I screamed. Buddy and John who joined in my
delight, danced on those gorgeous digits as I made the best possible
experience for my Phillie as I could... from the inside of Whoopi Goldberg's
cunt.

The End


  
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