Barely Legal Britney

December 23rd, 1999

The heart of Manhattan resembled a souvenir snowglobe at the dawn of a new millennium. A light flurry fell toward Rockefeller Plaza, coating the piney branches of a well-decorated eighty foot-high norway spruce from an upstate village. Dozens of people skated merrily around the iconic ice rink below the iconic golden statues, wearing red santa claus caps and reindeer sweaters.

Britney Spears couldn't care less about that bullshit tourist trap. The 18 year-old pop star was in the nearby NBC studio building, filming her latest music video. Right next door to Saturday Night Live.

"Oops, I did it again!" Britney sang in a seductive Mississippi accent. Wiggling her amazing tits and ass in a red skin-tight jumpsuit, just like the director told her to. Nigel Dick's weird "Lost in Space'' concept placed her on the surface of Mars with ten other sexy dancers in silver jumpsuits. (They were somehow able to survive without food or water in a super-cold hellhole while breathing 95% carbon dioxide.) An American astronaut guy stood nearby in a full NASA spacesuit, ogling the Princess of Pop. She was truly an inspiration to masturbation for the MTV generation.

"I played with your heart / got-a-lost in the game / oooh baby, baby . . ."

Britney kept shaking her heart-shaped ass for the cameras like a barely legal stripper. Nigel's 47 year-old dick got hard while watching that cajun bitch drop it like it was hot. Flames literally shot up behind her, from gas valves on the stage floor. The dancers slowed down for a melodic interlude, and the astronaut gave Britney a huge fake diamond necklace.

"Oh, it's beautiful!" Britney uttered in her sweetest girly-girl voice. "But I thought the old lady dropped it in the ocean in the end."

"Well, baby, I went down and got it for ya."

The ass-shaking suddenly resumed. Britney and her fellow "Martians" strutted all about, then they flopped down on a star-shaped platform inspired by Bob Fosse musicals. Wiggling like worms while looking up at a camera mounted to the rafters. She finished the highly choreographed routine a minute later, shadow-boxing like Mike Tyson and Vogue-ing like Madonna.

"Cut! That's a wrap!" Nigel shouted eagerly. "Great job, Brit-Brit. Your second album is gonna be a smash. I nearly busted my balls just watching you wiggle your ass in that tight latex."

"So I noticed," young Britney giggled, pointing at his crotch. A massive erection pushed his Tommy Hilfiger trousers to the very limit.

"Damn, that's embarrassing. Getting a hard-on in front of all these gay dancers."

"I give lots of men boners without even trying. Gay and straight," she mused while batting her long false eyelashes over her big beautiful brown eyes. "Why don't we go to your office and, uh . . . fill out some paperwork?" she added with a sly wink.

He quickly realized what she meant by that euphemism, and his penis quickly hijacked his mind. "Good idea, Britney. No job is finished without the paperwork."

She giggled naughtily, then she took him by the hand and led him out of the studio. The backup dancers sneered at that slutty pop star with a bayou country accent. They walked down a hall and into room A113, right next to Conan O'Brien's office. By the time Nigel closed the door, she was already down on her knees and ready to blow. She pulled down the zipper on his overpriced blue pants and yanked a huge dick out of his blue Calvin Klein boxer shorts. She grabbed the thick veiny shaft real hard, making him groan pleasantly.

"You did a great job directing my video, Mister Dick."

"I'm the best in the business, bitch."

"You deserve a big reward. An early Christmas present, right down my chimney."

She shoved that long dong deep into her mouth, gagging right off the bat.

"Ho-ho-hoooo!" he hooted like Santa. "Keep chugging that cock like a candy cane."

She giggled with a mouthful, then she whipped her head up and down in a blur of brown hair. Slurping and gagging and moaning like hell. Performing frantic fellatio on a man who was old enough to be her daddy. Sigmund Freud would be going bananas over Britney.

"Oops, you did it again," Nigel growled. "Losing all your senses, that is just so typically you."

She giggled with a mouthful of man-meat, then she slowed down and grabbed his testicles with both hands, massaging them thoroughly. Stretching his hairy sack in every direction and hitting his P-spot just right. Teasing him so fucking good. She turned eighteen on December 2^nd, losing her virginity to Trent Reznor at a star-studded birthday bash. (His nail was a few inches short of nine.) Britney "slept" with fourteen more guys over the following nineteen days. Nigel Dick was her sweet sixteenth.

"Good girl. I love how you play with my balls, getting lost in the game."

She whipped her head back and forth on his throbbing shaft. He took off his shirt and pants, pushed his Tommy Hilfiger boxers toward the floor. She deep-throated that pompous director even more, slurping and moaning theatrically. Making sure Conan could hear her latest sexcapade in his office. All those late night Britney jokes were like rocket fuel for her career.

"Get naked, girl. I want every inch of you."

"Yes sir, Mister Big Fucking Dick."

She unzipped her form-fitting Martian jumpsuit and peeled it off her lean 35-25-34 body. No bra or panties underneath. She tossed the red latex aside and struck another "Vogue" pose.

"God damn, you're the sexiest barely legal bitch I ever saw," Nigel grunted while stroking his stick. "I'm gonna eat those titties up."

He buried his face in those big soft perky breasts, rubbing them all over like a loofah. He took her right nipple into his mouth and sucked as hard as he could, making her squeal giddily. Nibbling those cute little nips with his teeth, making her squeal even louder.

"Fuck yeah, Mister Dick! Britney's boobies need lots of attention."

"Your pussy needs more attention."

That middle-aged MTV creep got down on the rug and munched away on her Brazilian-waxed carpet. Devouring those juicy pink folds like he was eighteen again. Drool dribbled down Britney's thighs as she squeezed her perky titties and moaned toward the ceiling. Nigel jammed his tongue all the way up her twat, tongue-fucking her at a dizzying pace. She grabbed his head with both hands and mashed his face against her crotch.

"Oh god, yes! You're way better than Justin Timberlake!"

Nigel pulled back and flashed a slimy grin toward her face. "This Just-in: Timberlake fucking sucks!"

He jammed his tongue right back up her honey-hole. Her eyes rolled back in her head with intense pleasure. He sucked her clit like a tiny dick, pushing her love over the borderline. She squirted all over his face, with orgasmic shockwaves rippling throughout her well-toned body. The clear fluid finally stopped gushing out, but it took another thirty seconds to catch her breath. She went over to his desk and assumed the doggy-style position, squishing her tits against a dog-eared copy of Hustler Magazine, December 1999. ("For the Rest of The World.")

"Fuck me for real, baby" she groaned.

"Hell yeah, bitch. I'm gonna pound your pussy like a Brittany Spaniel."

Nigel Dick grabbed her firm ass cheeks and slammed his big manly prick up her tight teen twat, making her squeal all over again. Rattling his luxurious mahogany desk with every crashing blow. Knocking over a pencil jar and a Limp Bizkit CD.

"Fuck me harder, Dick!"

"Oh yeah, I'm gonna break that fucking pussy. You'll be limping down Fifth Avenue in those Prada heels."

He kept pounding her into that desk while they both gazed out a picture window with a great view of the Rockefeller Tower.

"You drive me crazy, Britney!"

"But it feels alright!"

He slapped her left ass cheek nice and hard, making her yelp.

"Oh god, spank me hard, daddy! I'm so fucking naughty."

He whacked her five more times on each cheek while fucking the shit out of her, growling in macho triumph. Nigel Dick was doing what millions of lonely guys wished they could do, every single night while spanking their monkeys to pictures of Britney Spears in Rolling Stone, Allure, and Cosmo Girl!

"Keep spanking my naughty ass! Just like my real daddy down south."

He gladly followed her order, slapping that tight heart-shaped ass over and over and over. Turning it redder than a cajun crawfish.

"You're right, Britney: you're not that innocent. You're a fucking skank!

He kept fucking her fast and hard for what seemed like five minutes; somehow managing to hold back his load. He finally pulled out with a tortured groan.

"Oh god, I got a big one coming! Get down on your knees."

Britney kneeled down on the rug once again. Nigel aimed his massive member right between her eyes.

"Ho, ho, ho! How about some milk with your cookies, bitch?"

"Please, daddy. Britney is so thirsty."

"HoooooooooWAAAAHHHH!"

Britney moaned pleasantly while getting drenched with soothing hot cream. She grabbed his long dong and used it to smear that man-milk all over her cute girlish face.

"Oh shiiiiit, girl. You're so lucky. You're a star!"

"And you're just another boy-toy I picked up along the way," she remarked while playing with his thick jizz. Then she lay down face-up on his desk and spread her legs in a wide V-shape. "Hit me baby, one more time!"

"Yes ma'am," Nigel chortled. He grabbed her thighs and slammed his big willy up her Deep South pussy. He spanked her naughty ass even more while thrusting away.

"Loneliness never kills you, with all those goddamn groupie guys!"

"And girls," she added slyly.

He pulled out of her pussy a minute later, then he stepped around the desk and shot another wad on her face from the opposite direction. She fingered every drop of splooge into her mouth and slurped it loudly, like the filthy little wench she was.

"Cut! That's a wrap!"

"I wish someone was filming this, so we could put it in on MTV."

She got off the mahogany desk and kissed him passionately.

"Merry Christmas, Mister Dick."

"And a happy fucking Y2K."

Another day, another entry in her "little black book." Britney Spears was addicted to sex, and she could never get enough. That eighteen year-old brunette bombshell would keep on dancing 'till the world ends, and keep on screwing any guy (or girl) she felt like screwing.

She got dressed, strutted out of the studio, and hopped in a limo, heading toward JFK airport. A private jet was waiting to take her to New Orleans, where another limo would take her a hundred miles out to her parent's country home. A good ol' fashion Mississippi christmas. Eating lots of turkey and stuffing, opening lots of presents, and pretending she was still daddy's innocent little girl.