tagCelebritiesCrazy in Love: The Beyonce Story

Crazy in Love: The Beyonce Story

bymytasteislikecandy©

I was rearranging the tray of necklaces under the glass counter top when I heard the door chime. Looking up, I frowned a bit as 2 large black men came into the shop and glanced around. Dark glasses covered their eyes and they were both dressed exactly alike in dark suits with matching ties. I could see the earpieces in their right ears, and noticed that one of them was speaking into a microphone attached to the collar of his shirt.

Coming around the counter, I nervously smoothed my skirt down, and then smiled at the closest man. "Good afternoon, gentlemen. Welcome to Tiffany and Company. My name is Andrea. How may I be of assistance?" Both of them ignored me and I frowned. I wasn't used to being ignored. I cleared my throat and stepped closer.

"Please step back ma'am. Are you the only employee here today?" the first man asked, turning toward me, one hand held out as if to ward me off. Confused, I simply nodded, and found myself backing away from these strange men. I couldn't quite grasp what was going on here. Who were these men, and what the hell were they doing here, in my store? My boss was gone for the day, and since we only had another hour before we closed for the evening, I'd let Tamra, my co-worker go home early. So now I was alone with these two huge men who wouldn't even take the time to tell me what was happening. I began to grow nervous, and I eased back around the counter so that I could be near the panic button just in case something went down.

I'd only worked here for a few months, and we'd never been robbed, but there was a first time for everything. I was young, only 21, and this was the first job outside of serving that I'd ever had. Biting my lip, I started to say something when I heard the second man say into his microphone, "The store is clear. Only one employee, no other customers. She's free to enter now."

My forehead furrowed and then I realized what was happening. Someone famous was about to come shopping and I was the only employee here. How lucky was I? In the few months I'd worked here, I'd heard tales about Tom Cruise and Brad Pitt coming to buy trinkets for their loved ones, but I'd never been lucky enough to see someone famous. Sure I saw rich people day in and out, but never a real life movie star.

Trying not to appear eager, I looked toward the door, as it swung open, and a woman entered, her face under dark glasses like the ones her bodyguards wore. Her head was covered with a scarf, and her body was hidden under a long black coat that was tied around her waist, the collar turned up to block her face from the wind. It didn't dawn on me at first who she was, until she removed the sunglasses and scarf. I stared open mouthed as Beyonce Knowles smiled at her bodyguards and then turned toward me.

"Hello," she said softly, walking over to stand in front of the counter, "thanks for allowing us to invade your store today. I need a gift for my mother, and would prefer to shop without being bothered. Do you think it's possible to lock the door, just for a while, so that I can pick something special out?" She smiled again, and this time it was directed at me. I stood, stunned, amazed at how much prettier she was in person. She laughed when I didn't respond, and I blushed, realizing how dumb I must look to her.

"Sure Miss Knowles, that won't be a problem at all." I stated, hurrying over to the door and fitting the key into the lock. After hearing it latch, I moved back to where she was standing and asked, "How can I help you today?"

"Well, first you can call me Beyonce. No more of that Miss Knowles stuff." I nodded, giggling a little. God I sounded like a complete airhead.

"Okay, Beyonce, what exactly are you looking for?"

"Well it's just a little thank you gift to my mom for always supporting me through all my efforts and helping me get where I am today. What do you think would be appropriate?" She lifted her gorgeous brown eyes to mine, and I almost fainted. Something in me was reacting to this woman, something I'd never felt before. Sure, I'd had sex with men, and I loved it, but I'd never found myself attracted to another female before. Now here, with Beyonce in front of me, I could feel myself becoming aroused. Not only was it her amazing face and body, but her personality was getting to me too. I'd heard rumors that she was a bitch, a true diva in the making, but the girl in front of me was sweet and sincere. That in itself was a huge turn on.

"Well, we have some lovely rings. It's a new line, and is becoming rather popular. Would you care to take a look?" I slid the tray of platinum bands from the shelf and placed them on the counter in front of her. They were thick and each one had its own intricate design engraved into its surface.

"These are beautiful!" she murmured, picking one up and twirling it between her long fingers. "My mother loves simple things like this. That's why I chose Tiffany's. Nothing is ever overstated. I think I'll take this one." She said, handing me a band engraved with delicate flowers. "I need a size 7 for her I think. Her fingers are about your size. Would you try that one just to make sure it fits?"

I smiled and slipped the ring on. It didn't quite fit, and Beyonce's caramel fingers grasped my own ivory ones. "Well the ring is perfect, but it doesn't look as if it fits. Do you have a seven in this particular style?" She asked, her hand squeezing my own. The feeling of her flesh against mine made me swallow and I reluctantly pulled my hand from hers. Taking off the ring I placed it back in the tray. Looking through the other rings, I sighed and shook my head.

"I'm sorry but we don't. However, I can have it ordered from our sister store, and they could send it to us overnight. If you'd like, I could have it delivered to your room in the morning."

She smiled and nodded. "That's a lovely idea. Let me go ahead and pay for the ring and then I'll see you in the morning!" Handing me her credit card, I took it to the register and then handed her the slip to sign.

Signing the yellow copy with a flourish, she handed it back to me, her fingers again brushing my skin. I gasped a little, and bit my lip, trying to avoid her gaze. I didn't want her to become aware that she was turning me on. I'm sure she got that enough from the men she had to deal with every day.

"Thank you so much for your help, ummm," she smiled at me and laughed a little bit. "I don't even know your name."

"It's Andrea, and it was definitely my pleasure to help you today, Beyonce. All mine."

I watched as she wrote down the name of the hotel she was in and her room number. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't share this with anyone, and if at all possible, could you personally deliver the gift? I don't want too many people knowing where I am. I like to enjoy New York without all the hassle of screaming fans. And you seem trustworthy, so...what do you say?"

Flustered, I merely nodded, and then carefully slipped the piece of paper into my pocket. "I'd be honored to deliver the ring Beyonce. What time would be good for you?"

"Anytime after noon. I do have a show tonight, so I'm bound to be exhausted. And tomorrow is a free day for me, so I'll plan on sleeping in. Is that reasonable?"

"Yes, it is. I guess I'll see you tomorrow afternoon then, Beyonce. Thank you again for shopping with us today." I walked with her to the door, and she slipped her scarf and glasses back on.

"Take care Andrea. Until tomorrow." And with that, she was gone.

I went back to finish closing up the store in a daze. How fascinating my life had become with one customer. I was so excited about tomorrow, yet I couldn't tell a soul. The anticipation was going to kill me.

I slept fitfully that night, my mind continually going back to my encounter with the sultry R&B singer. Her smooth skin, bright smile, luminous eyes. In my fantasies, my mouth roved over the flesh of her breasts, stomach, thighs, and in between. And every time I imagined my tongue inside of her, I would experience a flash of guilt. I didn't love women! I wasn't gay! So how come I was having all these thoughts about Beyonce. I told myself it was just because she was famous and the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. Mixed with the fact that I hadn't had sex in a few months. Writing my fantasies off to those rationalizations, I finally drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, I dressed carefully. My favorite suit, a black DKNY with tiny white pinstripes, and a thin silk camisole, and a pair of 3-inch sling back heels. My blonde hair I left down and straight around my shoulders, and my make up was very light, allowing my creamy complexion and the faint spattering of freckles to show through. I admired myself in the mirror. I was about Beyonce's height, I assumed, 5'6 and even though my body wasn't as perfect as hers, I definitely had my own attributes. My breasts were full and heavy, but without a hint of sag. Through my shirt you could see the faint outline of my lacy bra, and if you looked hard enough, you could see the darkness of my nipples. Now my ass was nowhere near Beyonce's, but I'd never had a complaint before, and the fabric of my pants hugged what curves I did have like a well-fitted glove. Smiling at myself, I allowed my mind once again to focus on HER. I would be seeing the songstress in a few hours, and my heart raced with the thought.

Arriving at work, my boss greeted me with a huge smile. "I saw the receipt from last night. Beyonce Knowles was in MY store? Are you serious?"

I laughed and told him it wasn't a mistake. "Actually, Simon, I have to deliver her purchase to her today. Did it come in?"

Handing me a small bag embossed with our logo, he grinned. "Yup here it is. Are you sure you don't want me to go?" I shook my head.

"She specifically asked me to come, so I think it's best if we keep her happy. Don't you?" I responded, winking at him.

"Yes, yes, of course! But damn, what I wouldn't give to see that ass in person!" We both laughed and I settled in behind the counter to do my morning's work.

The hours between 9 and 12 passed so slowly that I thought the clock was broken. But finally, the time arrived and I practically leapt out of my chair. "Simon! I'm taking Miss Knowles' ring to her now! I'll be back in a bit." I called toward the office where he was doing some accounting.

"Ok Andrea. Have a good time. And remember! Make sure she's satisfied and wants to come back to see us." He replied, waving goodbye to me.

I left the store and hailed a cab. "The Ritz Carlton, please." I said, and the cabbie zoomed off. Clutching the Tiffany's bag and the armrest, I tried to calm my pounding heart. It was only a delivery, nothing more. I'd drop off the ring and be on my way.

Arriving at the hotel, I paid the driver, and climbed shakily out of the yellow taxi. "Where the hell did they find these guys?" I asked myself as I walked into the lobby of the fancy hotel. Glancing at the paper, I went to the elevator. The bellboy smiled at me, his eyes roving over my body, before asking me what floor.

"The penthouse." I murmured, standing in the corner of the elevator, trying to dry my palms against the jacket of my suit. Damn I was nervous.

I heard the elevator ding softly as we stopped.

"Penthouse."

Swallowing nervously, I stepped off the elevator and into the soft carpet of the hall that led to Beyonce's door. Gathering my thoughts, I slowly moved forward, and tentatively knocked. After a few moments, I knocked again, my heart deflating as I realized she might have forgotten our appointment. Sighing, I had turned to go, when I heard her exclaim behind me, "Andrea! You remembered!"

I laughed and turned back to the door. There she stood apparently having just waked up. Her splendid form was draped in a red silk robe, which she had tied hastily around her middle. It gaped open a bit, revealing the matching negligee underneath. Her bronzed skin glowed against the satiny fabric and I couldn't tear my eyes away.

"Come in, come in! Don't just stand there." She held the door open for me, and I pulled my gaze off of her body and somehow made my way into her suite. Closing the door behind us, she skipped in front of me and took my hand. "Girl! You have no idea how lonely I am on these tours! No female friends to bond with, nothing! That's why I'm so excited to see you. I hope I'm not freaking you out or anything." She smiled at me and then the bag in my hand caught her eye. "Oh, there it is! Let me see!"


I grinned at the way everything she said sounded so exuberant. Handing her the bag, she plopped onto the black leather couch and hastily pulled the tiny ring box out. Removing the ring, she held it out to me. "Try it on again, just to make sure."

I slipped the band on my finger and then let her take my hand to inspect the fit. "It's perfect. Just perfect. Thank you again for your help yesterday. Usually people are so put off by who I am that they're nervous and edgy. But you, I could tell you were good people. So nice and attentive. That meant a lot to me, Andrea. Being famous isn't all it's cracked up to be. Sometimes I wish I could just be me, Beyonce Giselle Knowles, the little nobody from Houston, Texas. This gets so boring somedays."

I sat beside her on the couch. Her sad tone had surprised me. I'd always thought that being Beyonce Knowles would be the greatest gift ever. And I told her so.

"Beyonce, you think your life is boring? Hell, live mine. I work at Tiffany's, go to school part time, and then sit in my apartment with my cat Ernest. Just because I can't afford to go anywhere on what they're paying me at the store. This visit is just as exciting for me as it is for you. Maybe even more. Thank YOU for the opportunity."

She turned toward me and smiled. "So, you'll spend the day with me? We can have girl talk and all that kind of stuff?" she asked, her hands grasping mine. When I nodded, she flung her arms around me and hugged. "Thanks! This is going to mean the world to me. You're the best Andrea!"

I was amused by how young she seemed. Her happiness was infectious, and when she asked me to kick off my shoes and take off my jacket to get comfy, I didn't hesitate. We spent the afternoon watching movies on Lifetime and about 2 o'clock, she ordered room service. I'd called Simon to let him know what was going on, and instead of being mad he laughed! "Enjoy yourself Andrea," he'd said, "But just make sure she comes to visit us again!"

I assured him I would, and when I hung up the phone, Beyonce was holding out a pair of silky blue pajamas. "Put these on so you can be comfortable like me." She was still wearing the red gown and robe, and occasionally I'd caught myself gazing at her exposed flesh. Luckily, she'd never noticed. I took the offered pj's and went to the bathroom to change. I left the door slightly open, and quickly stripped down to my bare skin. If I was going to wear real silk pajamas, I was going to feel all the sensations on my naked flesh. Not to mention, I was already aroused just from being around Beyonce all day. As I finished buttoning the pajama shirt, I heard a moan. Startled, I turned toward the bathroom door, but nobody was there. Confused, I went back into the bedroom, where I found Beyonce sitting on the edge of the bed, nonchalantly flipping through a magazine. But something was different. I noticed then that her robe was off, and she was somewhat flushed looking. Her body in the gown alone was enough to make me stop in my tracks. It ended about mid thigh, and the top was low cut, allowing her full breasts to be almost completely bared. Her nipples were hard and the silk fabric clung to them. I licked my lips, and shifted my weight a bit, trying to ease the aching that had suddenly began between my legs.

"Ok, I'm changed." I said, my voice quivering a bit. She looked up at me, and that's when I realized what the major difference in her appearance was. She was just as aroused as me. When I realized that, I moaned out loud. She pretended not to hear me, and then patted the spot on the mattress beside her.

"Sit with me. The bed is huge, and we can watch the next movie from here. I love chilling in bed under the covers while a movie plays. How about you?"

I nodded, and made my way to the bed, climbing up onto the king sized mattress beside her. She slid back until she was settled against the headboard, and I followed her lead. Lifting the blankets we both slipped underneath, and trying to ignore each other, we focused on the movie.

About half an hour into it, I noticed that Beyonce was breathing a little funny. The room was dark, since we'd turned off the lights and closed the drapes so that we could enjoy the romantic movie in the darkness. Turning to look at her, I saw that her eyes were closed, and her mouth open slightly. The blankets were up over her breasts, and both of her hands were underneath as well. Frowning, I became worried and reached over to shake her a bit, just to make sure she was ok. When I did, the comforter slid to her waist, and that was when I saw just what was making her breath so erratically. Both of her hands were between her legs; well at least it looked that way. When she felt the cool air brush over her skin, her eyes snapped open and looked at me. Her hands flew out from underneath the sheets, and her face grew flushed.

"Oh my God," she cried, trying to slip out of the bed. "I'm so sorry, Andrea!" Before she could get away, I grabbed her arm.

"It's ok, Beyonce. It's only natural...hell, this movie's got me kind of hot too." I said, when in all actuality it was HER who had me hot and bothered.

What she said next, I didn't expect. "It's not that, Andrea. It's you I was thinking about. That's why, why I apologized."

I was stunned into silence and when she started to move away from me again, her face growing redder, I finally sprang into action. "No, girl, it's ok! I was just, well, actually, I've been thinking about you too. It's not the movie at all. Just feeling you lying beside me has had me turned on all day. I just didn't want you to know."

We looked at each other silently for a moment, both of us breathing heavily. I could feel my nipples hardening under her gaze, and my pussy was already wet. Had been actually for hours. I swallowed, and then, at the same instant, we reached for each other. Our mouths met first, lips brushing then opening to one another. I moaned deep in my throat as I felt her tongue trace the outline of my lips, and I reciprocated by allowing my tongue to touch hers. We kissed deeply for several minutes, our hands resting on the bed, our bodies leaning forward so we could savor the other's flavor. Panting, we pulled away, both of our faces glowing, lips swollen from the intense kiss.

Beyonce took my hand and pulled gently. I took the hint and slid across the bed until our bodies were pressed against each other. My head fell back as her lips brushed over the pulse fluttering in the hollow of my throat. Her hands were on my thighs, squeezing them tightly as she nibbled on my flesh.

"You taste good, Andrea. Really good." She lifted her head and looked at me. "Have you ever done this before?" she asked seriously, her fingers still stroking my thigh through the fabric of the pajama bottoms. I shook my head and she smiled. "Well, believe it or not, I have. It's just not broadcast, you know? So why don't you let me take over...let me show you how a woman makes love?"

I could only nod, and then her hands were pushing me backward. She was on top of me suddenly, and her fingers were working the buttons of my shirt. Struggling, she gave up and yanked on the material, buttons flying everywhere. Opening my now ruined pajama top, my full breasts were exposed to her. My brown nipples were hard and her palms were brushing over them. I arched off the bed, my eyes closing at the sensation. Then, she was pulling and pinching them gently, teasing me. It was amazing that she knew exactly what I liked. Groaning I reached for her, but she pushed my hands away. Without a word, her mouth closed over my right breast, her lips clamping onto my overly sensitive bud.

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