OF YOU KNOW, I ACTUALLY WORK/SOCIALIZE/PARTY WITH MOST OF THE
CELEBS I WRITE ABOUT, ESPECIALLY BRITNEY/JAMIE, SELENA, KIM, MELISSA, LUCY
ETC.  I'M IN MOST WAYS PRETTY TAME.  I DONT HAVE ANY TATTOOS AND I DONT
SMOKE DRINK OR DO DRUGS.  MUCH OF WHAT IS CONTAINED IN MY "STORIES" IS
TAKEN FROM MY EXPERIENCES WITH THEM OF WHAT I HAVE BEEN PART OF, WITNESSED,
HEARD ABOUT FIRST AND SECOND-HAND.  THOUGH SOME OF IT MAY SEEM SURREAL THAT
IS MERELY BECAUSE THE SOCIAL AND SEXUAL REALM OF HOLLYWOOD IS A UNIQUE
WORLD OF IT'S OWN, SEPARATE FROM THE TYPICAL FRONTIERS OF MOST CULTURES
OUTSIDE IT.  SECRET RELATIONSHIPS/MARRIAGES ARE COMMON, MANY RELATIONSHIPS
ARE BEARDS/PUTATIVE AND VERY LITTLE OF THE PERSONAS PORTRAYED IN THE PRESS
ARE LEGITIMATE, FROM THE SIMPLEST TRIVIA ABOUT WHAT A CELEBS FAV FOOD IS TO
THE HOUSE THEY LIVE IN ETC.

   IN THIS INSTANCE I DIDN'T KNOW WHERE TO BEGIN BECAUSE MOST OF THESE
PEOPLE'S SEXLIVES BEGIN LONG BEFORE ME.  ANYTHING I HAVE WITNESSED OR HEARD
ABOUT WAS ONGOING LONG AFTER WHATEVER IT IS THEY WERE DOING BEGAN.

   IVE SEEN VERY FEW BEGINNINGS.  THE RESULT OF THIS IS I CANNOT WRITE
ABOUT EVENTS THE WAY MOST DO IN THESE "STORY" LIBRARIES WHERE IT'S "THE
FIRST TIME THIS HAS EVER HAPPENED"

   SORRY!

   ANYTHING I WRITE IS GOING TO BE ABOUT A CELEBRITY, EVEN INDIRECTLY WHERE
CELEBRITIES INFLUENCE THOSE WHO AREN'T.  IT IS VERY COMMON FOR CELEBS TO
REACH OUT TO FANS SECRETLY ONLINE ETC WEN THEY ARE BORED TO EXERCISE THEIR
INFLUENCE AND GET GRATIFICATION.

   AT ANY RATE, I HOPE YOU ENJOY EVERYTHING I WRITE.

   SO, HAVING GIVEN SOME THOUGHT TO WHERE I SHOULD START IT SEEMED
REASONABLE TO BEGIN WITH BRITNEY SINCE WE'RE THE CLOSEST AND SHE IS THE
BIGGEST CELEBRITY ON THE PLANET WHERE TO BEGIN WITH HER...I HAD NO IDEA. 
BY THE TIME THESE EVENTS TOOK PLACE I HAD BEEN WELL-INITIATED IN TO
BRITNEY'S WORLD AND HOLLYWOOD'S SEXUALITY.  CONCERNING MY OWN SEXUAL
TASTES, I WAS CONVENTIONAL AND STRAIGHT WHEN I FIRST MET BRITNEY AND THOUGH
I DONT CONSIDER MYSELF BISEXUAL, I DO CONSIDER MYSELF SEXUALLY ADVENTUROUS,
EVEN IF PRIMARILY HETERO.  I DIDN'T LEAN TO THIS CHOICE THROUGH MY PERSONAL
TASTES, MORE TO CAPTURE SOMETHING I ASSUMED OTHERS WOULD LOVE FAR MORE THAN
MYSELF AND BECAUSE I THOUGHT IT CAPTURED HOW DEVELOPED AND MATURE THEIR
CONNECTION WAS AND IS.  SO EVENTUALLY I JUST GAVE INTO IMPULSE AND SAID
'THIS WILL HAVE TO DO'.  WHILE THERE ARE EVENTS THAT PREDATE THIS FIRST
SUBMISSION...THIS IS WHERE I DECIDED TO BEGIN.

   **********************************************************







   ________________________________________________________

   BRITNEY AND JAMIE LYNN SPEARS: CHAPTER ONE -- ZOEY 101
________________________________________________________



   Jamba Juice was a nightmare.  The line was split into 3 queues that
weren't the least bit merging and every overweight asshole that could, kept
steamrolling their way through the intimidated to skip through to their icy
relief.  It was somewhere near 95 degrees and the smog hanging over the
valley and as far as Rodeo looked more like a thunderstorm rolling in. 
Britney had this 'thing' about driving on the freeway or any other surface
with more than 2 lanes when it was this hot, citing road-rage as second
only to being caught in a crawl with some paparazzi who pulls up and
doesn't just snap a thousand shots whether she bird's him or not, but has
to start shouting out lurid remarks about various body-parts.  Surface
roads got us through the neighborhoods but now the real jam was standing at
Jamba waiting for a strwberry-banana-kiwi with sweat creeping down our
cleavage and the only thing preventing recognition and the ensuing clamor
for an autograph or lock of hair or donation to whatever dying relative
they had was the elevator effect that kept all eyes forward.

   Brit was texting and swearing, threatening to just turn off her phone
(she keeps 4, one for each element of her lifestyle, with revolving weekly
phone numbers to prevent hacks and phone employees selling off her number
to anyone and everyone for fifty bucks a pop).

   We were en route to Jamie, where she was about to start first day of
shooting for "Zoey 101".  At this point Jamie was essentially living with
Brit and with some arrangements for a trailer to be a private schooling
area for her sister, Britney was taking her pseudo-parenting
responsbilities as well as she could.  For those who aren't aware,
Britney's achilles heel is basically any sort of responsibility or
commitment.  However it's linked to her development and childhood and life
in and out of showbiz is likely too difficult to trace, but the consequence
is the same.  But she had vowed to show up and be there as often as
possible in the fledgling days of the show; and, at this point, she was
beginning to think she'd have to hit a drive-thru closer to Pepperdine
(where the show was being filmed) or just hope that kraft services were
dynamite.

   "Fuck it," she said and leaned closer to explain her scheme.  It was one
that she rarely used but it was effective for emergencies.  While she
turned to the 3 teens behind her, removing her cap and sunglasses smiling
"Hi guys, any of you have air conditioning in your cars?" It took less than
3 minutes for their recognition of her to bloom into an all-out
ground-cloud of fans, haters, and just curious Jamba customers.  I got our
extra-larges and with more than a little help from the bodyguard, Britney
parted the sea and steered the b-mer towards Pepperdine.  These were the
days you wish California was 10 degrees further North and half the the
idiot population was sent to Nevada.

   The set was a disaster.  There wasn't a thing as organized as it ought
to have been and Jason (the set decorator) was getting chewed out as we
walked by first by who we assumed was one of the producers and then by Dan
(who I was to meet later in the season) who had a rather short fuze for
work and heat mixed.  Brit had arranged for Bryan to get a "co-producer"
title and cheque but he was nowhere to be seen -- thank God!  (I'll explain
somday).  At this point none of the crew or talent had any real solid idea
when shooting was going to start (if at all) and people were coming and
going, vanishing for lunch or maybe even surfing.  Once everything was
organized and prepped, Dan would probably be sending gophers everywhere
trying to round people up, but for the moment everything seemed chaotic at
best and it looked less than promising.

   With some help and less-than-frustrating starstruck delays, we found
Jamie in her 'dorm room' loafing on the couch in the corner, soaking up the
AC and nervously reading lines she'd been obsessing about for weeks.  Jamie
was far from an actress and she was savvy beyond her years, not only
precocious socially but a few years ahead of most of her co-players.  But
she was not deluded about her skills and it made her more than a bit
unsure. Casually Brit handed Jamie her Jamba "this'll cool ya lilbitch," (I
wont even get into the various greetings, pet-names and verbal-swords they
shared).  Brit plopped down on the couch.  "Close that door already!" she
half-barked at me.  "And lock it, I don't want any weirdos in and out of
here messin with my chill." Jamie had siphoned down a third of the Jamba
before she passed it back and Brit and the three of us started bitching
about the heat and every annoying detail that always seems so much more
pronounced because of the sweltering weather.  Brit passed me her phone and
asked me to field her txts, ignore her calls.  Bodyguard outside the door
and a sort of humming quiet filling the room, Jamie put her back in the
corner of the couch, her legs across Brit's thighs and said, "I could
sleep....seriously...you can be my alarm clock." "There's beds," said,
clearing her throat from an ice-throttle and then said, " did you try em
out...which one's yours?" "No idea...don't care," Jamie answered, eyes
closed and sounding like she might actually drift off.  Brit was running
her cold Jamba cup up and down Jamie's legs.  Jamie was dressed to shoot.
She had the picante top, hot-spice shoes, and powderblue skirt they'd given
her, blushing bride lipstick that would probably need to be reapplied.  The
foundation and powders were holding thanks to AC and she'd made a small
hill of her jewelry on the minifridge to keep it from driving her crazy
with perspiration.

   Even if they did any shooting today it was going to be hell trying to
keep everyone's brows and pits from running wet.

   Brit was massaging Jamie's calves and shins and ankles, not too
urgently, head back, talking light about plants dying in the west garden
and Jamie seeming half-gone.  I worked hard at this point to never bring up
shoptalk with the celebs I called friends but I worked equally hard at
being a fly on the wall when two or more celebs were together that had a
strong friendship or bond I wasn't really part of.

   "So we just hang until someone calls?" I asked They both moaned and then
all three of us chuckled at it.  "I can't believe I'm getting paid for
this," Jamie murmured.  Brit's hands had moved up to Jamie's knees and
thighs, squeezing.  "If you're trying to get me horny, it's not happening,"
Jamie murmured sleepily.  "I'm pretty much always horny now thanks to you,"
and she smiled, half-laughed still sleepy, Britney sliding her right hand
up beneath Jamie's blue skirt.  Unsure exactly what specifically she was
doing, i imagined she was, from the twist in her arm rubbing the pad of her
right thumb up and along Jamie's panties through her now-open legs. 
"Mmmmmmmm," Jamie moaned softly, "that's not nice...it's too hot." Britney
smiled and chuckled, "okay you just walked right into that one..." And I
found myself talking over Brit not saying exactly the same thing but pretty
much..."it's hot up there alright" I glanced over at the door just to
confirm to my concern that I had indeed locked it.  Britney teased Jamie,
"oh what would your new fans think...wwwhhhhaaaaaat would they think if
they knew...oh such a baaaaaad girl....baaaad little Jamie Lynn Spears,"
Britney winked at me and we both giggled a bit.  I loved watching this. 
Britney mimicked Elmer fudd, "Baaaad widdle girl...." then just a more
taunting tone...muttering, "oh my god!  Jamie Spears?  Zoey?  no...no...she
couldn't...she wouldn't..." Britney had "Zoey's" skirt up now so I could
see her pull Jamie's panties down, Jamie lifting herself gently to allow
them to be lowered to just above her knees.  she kept otherwise still and
half-asleep, as far as her face showed.  Britney worked the panties down to
her ankles and around her hotspice pink shoes.  Jamie pulled her knees up
so they 'frogged', her feet resting against Britney's nearest thigh.  "Not
sweet innocent little Zoey!...no not her!" Brit taunted as she worked her
fingertip into her little sister, one slow knuckle in and Jamie tightening
her hands against the back and arm of the couch, eyes wrinkling at the
corners, mouth opening, nothing escaping at first but then a deep gasp,
chest inflating, and a little yelp.  Britney withdrew, worked the entire
finger along Jamie's now-glistening lips and back betwen them where she
giggled and vibrated her entire hand, knuckle against her clitoris and then
slowly back down probably far enough to get between her asscheeks then
foward to work inside and vanishing her finger completely, sending Jamie's
hips up, trembing, her teeth clenching, her entire body taut and red from
holding her breath.  "There we go!" Brit smiled, withdrawing, letting her
sister fall back down to the couch.  Jamie sprang up and forward, lips to
Britney's, hands on Britney's jaw.  The two of them spiraled out a
shockwave of sexual energy and tension, a sort of explosion of things
forbidden, a mix of infinite lust and guilt and fever and love, a chemistry
that could hardly be explained unless you'd experienced it yourself.

   None of anything else Ive ever seen -- and I have witnessed so much --
could compare to that moment.  It was simply freakish, maybe even
supernatural.

   Jamie was across Brit's Lap, the two of them kissing deep and noisily,
lipsmacking and deep breaths like people coming from twenty leagues and
nearly drowning.  Brit's hands were all over Jamie's skin, exploring her
sisters legs and stomach and arms and face as she kissed own to Jamie's
neck back up to her face and Jamie jockeying around to get her crotch
across Brit's left thigh so she could roll her hips and grind herself first
sideways then forward and back on Brit's skin "Damn you're so gungho!'
Britney said.  Britney had talked more than once about how much she was
turned on by how animated and 'gung-ho' Jamie was, the way her body became
electrified and then behaved like some dervish, trembling from guilt and
excitement and lust and a mad sort of need to have Britney that bordered on
cannibalism.

   I loved watching her for the same reason.  It was hard not to be fixated
and frozen watching them.  There could have been half a million spectators
and, when this started, they wouldn't have known or noticed.  They became
enveloped in their own forbidden fever.  The mellow Jamie that most knew
turned into a sexual ninnyhammer...a dynamo.  There's a sort of ghost-like
exchange always going on between them of whispering, gasping "Oh God!"s and
"Yes"'s.  Between the louder and more pronounced moans or yelps or whimpers
that envelop most of their exchanges, a stream of little hungerings,
desperations.  It's difficult to express.  Britneys wedged her fingers
between her leg and Jamie's wet cunt so she can manipulate her sister's
accelerating gyrations and Jamie's wrestled her hand down Brit's shorts and
is digging, rubbing.  The two of them fill the room with sweat and their
musk, Jamie's pulling her hand to shove her fingers into her mouth to suck
and then kiss Britney deeply.  Britney jerks her knee to bounce Jamie a
bit, they laugh and as they kiss and neck the heat of the day falls before
the heat they create.  Jamie slides down Brit's knee and foot to the floor,
back on her hands, knees bent so that her skirt is like an open bandshell
for Britney to access as she comes forward to her own hands and knees,
kissing Jamie's right and then left knee, then down Jamie's left thigh
"Sugarlips," Jamie jokes.  "Banana Strawberry Kiwi lips baby" Brit jokes.
Jamie falls back to her elbows and Britney's putting a hand on either side
of Jamie's chest, rubbing her own breasts across Jamie's knees, still
kissing around her upper thighs, her hardened nipples shoving at her
cotton. Britney's down, ass up, face just under Jamie's skirt.  I find my
way to couch behind Brit for a better view.  Brit's nuzzling Jamie's wet
cuntlips, her nose glistening with her sister's juices.  Her lips graze
Jamie's soaked opening as her nose comes back down and nuzzles in side to
side, Jamie's mouth open so wide it might come unhinged and her eyes closed
then open, wrinkles at her nose come and go and finally she's saying "Stop
that!  Dammit!" then adds, "Just do it!  Don't be a bitch!" With that
Britney's dives in, her mouth opening wide, covering her sisters's entire
opening, tongue deep and slithering, her gutteral moans vibrating against
Jamie's crotch the way she loves.  The 'hummer' intensifies right off,
Britney moaning in a deliberate fashion to increase the vibrations for her
sister as she begins to mouth and mouth and mouth over her crotch, licking
up and down then covering again to suck and then out to the lips to nuzzle
her clitoris her noise then tongue, then back to the 'hummer'. 
"DAAAAAAAAMMMMMMNNNNN!" Jamie's panting and half-yelling, curbing herself.
"Oh my God..................OH MY GOD!" Britney smiling, licking,
repeating, shaking her head to rub her face into Jamie's crotch, her
eyelashes slightly tickling Jamie's pubis as she lifts her neck.  Britney
lays down flat on her stomach, hands up around Jamie's thighs like she was
eating an entire watermelon.  "Sooooo juicy," she says then digs back in
then again, "Juicy little girl aren't you.........soooo sweeeeet" and the
two of them are sort of jerking together, not climaxing but spasms, Jamie's
covering her eyes with her right hand, left hand hungrily running itself
through Britney's hair and pulling her sister in, then away and back in an
attempt to keep Britney devouring her as long as possible with the fiercest
sexual bliss just shy of orgasm.  Britney looks beautiful and amazing like
this.  She's laid out in front of me on her stomach with all her sexuality
and physical perfection prone and as it happens many times I realize that I
don't even consider myself BI but for some reason she just makes it
impossible not to drink her in and think there's a cosmological joke that
certain people seem to have a monopoly on the gene pool.  Britney's
something of a Venus.  She's got her face buried in her little sister,
eating, using a thousand individual skills that, by themselves, would be
for a hundred people a " move" they use, but compiled make watching her do
what she's doing simply dazzling.  You want to study, slow-mo, rewind,
laser-point "What is that? ....what are you doing there exactly..." like a
sexual tuition, a course in erotic excellence.  You want to freeze-frame,
zoom in, half the speed forward, learn it, make it yours, become a protege,
an apprentice.  You want to become a follower, a student.  You want to
begin the journey to be even half as skilled and inspired at this as she
is. You're just in awe, intimidated, made small beside her incestuous
cunnilingus.  If there were ever two people for which incest was created,
it's Britney and Jamie Spears.  They could be the beginning of a new craze.
Britney Spears is devouring her own little sister and the fact that they do
this regularly, that you've seen it before, that it should get old or
boring or monotanous, that it should not dazzle and drive you insane means
nothing.  It is simply the most amazing thing you've seen and you feel like
you could leave it running in a loop without breaks for food or sleep and
watch them until your muscles atrophy and you eventually collapse and die
from heart failure brought on by dehydration.  Britney Spears is all in,
lipsmacking, moaning, reveling in her little sister's saturated crotch,
doing everything imagineable and so much more most would never think to do,
driving Jamie into desperately dizzying jerks of her hips, gasps, yelps,
breathing so erratic she might pass out.  Jamie is amazing to watch when
she jerks and pops the way she does.  "FUUUUUCCCCKKKK!  YEEEESSSSSS......
OH MY GOD!  WHAT THE HELL?!" Britney is driven by her deep need to possess
her lovers -- espcially Jamie -- to own her, to have her so fiercely and
surely in hand that Jamie might kill for her without hesitation in this
feverish state, if for no other reason than to simply have her delirium the
least bit threatened or slowed.  Britney's using lips, tongue, nose, left
hand, breathing hot n cold air muttering salacious taunts, "Little slut
aren't you?  Always my little slut!" Jamie cannot say "Yeessssssss" fast
enough, can't say "all yours!  Brit's little slut!" so that Britney will
work twice as hard now, the incest so intensely shocking and somehow
sensible that the brink Jamie's been teetering at seems like a prison
Britney's obliged to break her free from.  She, bears down, moaning in a
deep hum, sucking on her sister's clitoris.  Zoey's room is no longer the
set of a tweens show but groundzero for a ferocious growl that erupts out
of Jamie's throat, mouth open, growing into fierce set of yells, shrieks
peppered with expletives..."GOD...SHIT!...SHIT!...SHIIIIITTTT!  FUCK!!! 
FUCK!!!!  FUUUCCCCK!!!!" Brit's, bearing down, burrowing in, Jamie's hips
are 6 inches off the ground, Britney's locked in, mouth fastened to her
sister's cunt following her as she jerks and spasms, lifts and lowers,
pushes forward into Brit's mouth.  "GGGGAAAAWWWDDDD!!!" she's yelping, back
on the rear of her skull, hands digging into Brit's hair and scalp.  Brit's
achored to her sister, unwilling to release her from the extended cycle of
orgasms she's always intent on giving Jamie and always trying to outdo each
time.  Jamie's brain is breaking away, supercharged, overwhelmed and
signaling her almost against her consciousness to break away.  She's
pushing at Britney's head now where thirty seconds ago she was digging in,
her heels scrambling against the floor looking for traction.  The couch is
an inch too far and Britney's got all the leverage.  Jamie's trying to turn
over, twist out of the orgasm, trying to scramble, hands clenching and
clawing.  Britney's too strong too unrelenting, too skilled, too driven,
too unequaled.  She's seized Jamie at the thighs, pushing into her, still
working her mouth and tongue into her sister, unwilling to release her
until they've set some new invisible immeasureable landmark.  Jamie might
pass out.  She's saying "Stop!!  God!  please!.....Britney!!!  Stop!!" But
that's not gunna happen.  Brit has no redlights.  She never has.  Jamie's
jerking her hips at the next wave, still trying to end it, while what's
clearly an umpteenth orgasm hits her spine and legs and she clenches her
thighs then wraps her legs around Brit's head and neck, pushing her away
while simultaneously incarcerating her.  "Brit!  Please!  Ggggaaawwwd!" I
have no idea what their "record" is.  For every time Ive seen them mess
around or go at it, there's probably a dozen or more incidents I have no
idea occured.  The scene is sweet and dark and sweltering and magnificent.
The girl so many will know soon enough as Zoey is finally released from
Britney's mouth and hands, too exhausted to move, yet somehow needing to
push away a couple inches as she worriedly tries to catch her own breath
"Damn!.................shit!  you're gunna kill me yknow!" Britney's
breathless and face glistening with a combination of sweat and Jamie's
juices, shaking her shirt at the sides as she stands and grabs whats left
of the Jamba.  Jamie's laying limp, trying not to move, gasping, still
cursing.  "I hate it when you do that....I hate it.....God!" I'm almost
half ready to laugh at the outrageous chemistry they have and the smell of
them in the room no one will be able to miss though I know soon enough
everyone will probably know nevertheless.  "Fuck!" Jamie's still swearing.
"You love it bitch!" Britney says and makes her way to the door to send for
something ice-cold.  I'm thumbing through the txts on Brit's phone to see
if any are urgent and all I can think is 'she's right...Jamie loves it..