Commission for EgoMyEgo, contact me if you like what you read and would like me to bring your fantasy to life.

All characters are 18+

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You ever had one of those moments where you’re just like ‘how the hell did I get here?’. It doesn’t all the time have to be a bad thing, obviously, but like when the universe aligns in such a way that something you would have wondered beyond impossible actually happens, you know? I have just had one of those experiences. Currently I am being escorted out of the backstage area of an arena, but not because I’ve done anything wrong. In fact, I’m not even sure what I could have done so right to have gotten to experience what I just have. You can see I’m sort of dancing around what it actually was that happened, mostly because I’m still trying to make sense of it. Maybe it’s best I begin from the beginning.

My name isn’t mega crucial for this story so let’s refer to me as Jack. That’s nice and anonymous enough I think. By the end of this story you’ll likely wonder why I’m not shouting my real name from the rooftops, but even writing it down like this puts me in trouble in a major way, so it’ll have to do. For now just know that I’m somewhere between 21-25 years old and live on my own.

Like a lot of people I enjoy music. Not a groundbreaking revelation, I know, but it’s not meant to be. I mention it because my story hinges on me liking the music of a particular artist. I’ll save time by just saying who it is outright: Phoebe Miller. She’s maybe the most trendy singer in the world right now and she’s done it all out of the bedroom she used to distribute with her brother in her parents home. It isn’t unusual to discover someone who likes her music, I mean you don’t win more Grammys than you can count and an Oscar if what you produce is terrible, but I know she has plenty of detractors too. I’ve followed her career for years and watched her blossom from an awkward and aloof teen into a gorgeous and confident young woman.

You can probably guess from what I’ve just said that it would be a gigantic understatement to say I have a huge crush on her. I mean her music is great, don’t get me wrong, but particularly in the last year or two I’ve found myself being more and more drawn to her physically. I feel I can hardly be blamed for that, I mean did you see the cover she did for High Fashion Magazine? If you haven’t, just imagine her platinum blonde hair done up in ringlets like some 50’s pinup model and an off-pink corset dress that accentuates all of her assets. You wouldn’t know it looking at her in her typical, baggy casual clothes, but she’s surprisingly well stacked and has a subtle curve on her hips. I know describing her like that could be seen as very reductionist or even sexist, but how else would you describe her physical appearance? Gotta call a spade a spade, you know?

Anyway, it was the combination of my growing infatuation for her and her music that meant I absolutely needed to buy tickets if she was ever playing anywhere close to me. I know I’d only be one in a crowd of thousands, but getting to see her in real life was just too much of an opportunity to let slip me by. So I saved and saved and waited and waited until finally her latest tour dates were announced and what do you know, she was playing an arena just over an hour away from my home. I stayed up until 8am refreshing my web browser so I could get those tickets as soon as they were available and my tenacity paid off.

I was sent a copy of my ticket via email for me to print off so I didn’t even have to wait for it in the post. I was so excited that I almost missed that the email had an additional attachment. It was a PDF that was named simply ‘Competition’. It wasn’t something I was expecting to receive so I was a little cautious to start with, but it had come with my ticket so what risk was there really?

I opened the PDF and read what it said. In brief, it told me I had the opportunity to win a backstage experience with Phoebe that I eligible for with my purchase of the ticket within the first hour of sale. All I had to do was to fill in a bit of information about myself (name, age, picture, relationship status, all that sort of stuff) and just email it back to them. Simplest competition I’ve ever entered.

Now obviously I didn’t expect anything to come of that, but you can not win if your horse isn’t in the race right? Just a few days before the show I got another email telling me something I just wasn’t ready for. I had won. I couldn’t believe it!! The email told me that I and 29 other lucky fans had been randomly selected to have a backstage experience with Phoebe following her show! It was like all of my Christmases had come at once!

Weirdly though it also came with a bunch of added pressure. The realisation that I was actually gonna meet Phoebe made me so much more self conscious about what I was planning to wear, how I was gonna look overall, all that sort of stuff. It felt like I needed to make more of an effort than if I was just gonna be some fan in the crowd. So I obsessed over it for the next few days until, on the day of the show, I was finally happy.

I had expected it, but holy crap the amount of people there was insane. I’ve no shame in admitting I walked around there with a certain arrogance about me, knowing that I was gonna be one of only the smallest selection of these people who would actually get to meet her. I was told to make my way to the main desk of the arena once the show was over so I could be taken to the backstage area. At least the wait for me was filled with one of the most electric live performances I’ve ever witnessed.

There are some people who you can tell just come alive when they perform and Phoebe is one of them. I’ve seen in interviews how she’s said she feels invincible on stage, like she has the power of a god. She didn’t say this bit but it’s hard to argue against that when she has 50,000 people worshipping at her feet. Watching her interact with the crowd and the way her face lit up as she sang was such a gorgeous thing to witness and so far removed from the idea so many places sell of her being this moody child.

As usual, and so on brand for her, she was wearing this baggy sports jumper, cargo shorts and worn sneakers with shin high socks. A lot of people criticise her for this but these are the same people who also body shamed her when she did that amazing High Fashion shoot I was telling you about. I personally think it makes her all the more alluring that she would rather be comfortable on stage than worry about being in some skimpy outfit. I mean, let’s be real, I’d love to see her in something like that too, but it’s not my decision to make.

As the show drew to a close I practically sprinted for the main desk. I’d been quite far forward in the bustle of the crowd so when I got there there were already a few other guys waiting. My foot was tapping uncontrollably with nerves as I waited as patiently as I could and more people joined our crowd. I think it was at this point I first realised that everyone waiting was a guy, there were no girls, but I was way, way too nervous and excited to give it any real wondered.

Once the bulk of the crowds had gone, a couple of men who looked like they had just stepped out of a Men in Black audition or something came and collected us. We followed them obediently through the back halls of the arena to what looked like a lounge room or something similar. My guess was Phoebe would come out and greet us in here, she’d maybe take a few questions and that would be it. You can imagine my slight disappointment when a man who said he was her manager came out instead.

I’ll try and remember what he said if I can:

“First off thanks for being here tonight and we really hope you enjoyed the show. As you all know you were all picked at random from the pool of people who bought their tickets in the first hour they went on sale and then proceeded to fill in the additional form. I am pleased to inform you that one by one, you will be taken to meet Phoebe in a private room and have your experience with one another. This isn’t something she does often as normally she would see all of you at once but as she’s feeling particularly good today, she decided she wants to meet you all much more personally. How long you spend with her is at her discretion and if she asks you to leave I suggest you do so or we will remove you forcibly. Everyone ok with that?”

There were excited nods and murmurs from the whole room. This day just kept getting better and better! Not only would we be getting to meet her, but we’d do so individually! The manager wasn’t finished though:

“In a moment I will be handing each of you a document. It’s something you may have heard of before called an NDA. For those who don’t know, NDA stands for Non Disclosure Agreement. In simple terms, signing this means that you cannot talk to anybody about what your experience with Phoebe was like, especially, but not exclusively, the press or any media outlet. Phoebe likes to be as genuine as she can with her fans but you must respect that that comes with a responsibility on your part not to betray her trust if she tells you something in confidence. For the sake of simplicity, assume everything she says is said in confidence while you’re with her, ok?”

The situation suddenly felt a lot heavier and more serious, but I can see the logic of it and why it was necessary in hindsight.

“Refusal to sign this will mean that we will escort you out now and you won’t get to see Phoebe at all. Are we all agreed?”

Yeses, nods and murmurs once again came from the crowd.

“Good. Now we have a running order for this so first of all can we have…”

I don’t remember the first guy’s name, or any of them for that matter, just that the first guy wasn’t me. Or the second. Or the third. I had to wait until 21 other guys had gotten to meet her before me, can you believe that? It had taken about 3 hours maybe more before I got my chance and when my name was called I sprung up like a jack-in-the-box and followed the manager along a corridor to a room that had a paper sign stuck to it simply saying ‘Phoebe Miller’.

“In you go, and remember, she’s the boss ok? She says leave, you up and leave immediately, understand?”

“Of course,” I replied enthusiastically.

He really didn’t need to tell me she was the boss, there was never gonna be any doubt about that on my part.

I walked in and was met with Phoebe at on the far end of a couch, her knees drawn up to her chest in that way she all the time seems to do on photos of her. She had changed out of her performing clothes but was in a very similar ensemble, the same baggy jumper and shorts combo from before. What melted my heart though was how she smiled as I came in. It felt like she was greeting a friend, not just some randomer she’d only just met.

“Hey,” she said. “Jack is it?”

She’d taken the time to know my name. That was amazing in itself.

“Y-yes, hi,” I replied, trying to play it cool and failing miserably.

“Come sit with me,” she told me, which I of course did. She was the boss after all.

On the table in front of us was a clear jug of water and a glass. She must have noticed me noticing it and told me to help myself. I poured a glass, trying not to let my hands shake too much, and took a few nervous gulps while she smiled at me.

“So, what did you think of the show?” she suddenly asked.

“It was amazing, the best I’ve ever seen!”

“Aw, thanks. Have you been to many?” she asked with a knowing grin.

“Well, no, this is maybe only the second I’ve been to, but…”

“I’m just messing with you man,” she laughed, “I really appreciate you saying that, honestly.”

I smiled back at her and took another sip of water. There was a certain awkwardness from me, no doubt about it, as I suddenly realised that now I was here I didn’t have a clue what to say!

“Are your family here too?” I finally mustered, knowing they typically accompanied her on tour.

“No, not tonight. They’re normally here but my parents had a prior engagement to go to and my brother just wanted to do his own thing tonight, so it’s just me,” she replied. “In a way it’s actually quite nice, I mean I love my family to pieces but them not being here means I can do stuff like this.”

“Do they not like you meeting with fans?” I asked.

“No, no,” she laughed, “that they don’t have a problem with. I mean my mom would probably freak out if she knew… that’s not important though,” she said, quickly changing subject. “Oh, feel free to pour yourself another if you’re out by the way,” she told me, motioning to my empty glass.

As before, I did as I was told. I don’t know if it was nerves or just wanting to be a good guest or both, but I was sucking down this water like I hadn’t drank in weeks.

“So, like, this is a given what with you being in here with me right now, but can I ask, did you sign that NDA thing?” she asked, seeming a little more serious.

“Yes, of course,” I obliged.

“Good, cause if it’s ok I’m gonna be asking you a few personal questions and having a bit of, like, real talk as such. Chances are I’m gonna say something that is intensely private to me and I just need to know it won’t leave this room.”

“Even without the NDA, you would have my total confidence,” I replied, something that sounds far sappier to me now than it did when it popped into my head and said it.

“Great,” she beamed.

She leant in a little closer to me, her bluey-grey eyes piercing into mine and a look of excited anticipation on her face like we were about to discuss something secret and shocking.

“I’m gonna start big ok? Do you have any sexual fetishes?”

I was knocked for a home run with that question. The question itself was enough of a shock but to be asked it by Phoebe while we were sat so close and in private was a complete brain melter.

“I get it,” she continued, “it’s a super weird question to ask someone you’ve only just met but we might never get to talk again and it’s something that really interests me.”

She was right, this may have been the one and only chance I’d ever get to talk to her, particularly in private. The question was still weird but if she wanted an answer, I’d give her one.

“Err, well I… I don’t really know, I don’t think I do…”

“Doesn’t matter how weird you think it is, there’s no judgement in here man. Look, can I be frank for a second?”

I nodded in response.

“I never get to talk about this stuff usually. I get enough bad press as it is for just commenting on normal stuff. If any of this kind of thing got out, the media would eat it up and use it to ruin my career just because of what I like and don’t like. I can’t even really talk to my family about it because, like, I love them dearly but you don’t really talk about your sexual preferences with your mom and dad and certainly not your brother, you know?”

I completely understood what she meant. I’d seen myself how everything she says and does is seemingly reported somewhere, oftentimes out of context, so I could figure out why she wouldn’t want to add fuel to that fire.

“So the NDA, sitting in private, this is sort of like a ‘safe space’ for you as such?” I asked.

“That’s exactly it. And don’t worry, I’m gonna talk about mine too, I’m just interested to know if you have any first.”

I took another sip of water as I wondered. There was only really one thing I could think of and admitting it now would be incredibly awkward. But as Phoebe said, it was a safe space.

“Well it’s not really a fetish as such, more like a kind of… ultimate fantasy…”

She shuffled forward slightly, lending me her full attention. I wasn’t sure if that made it better or worse.

“It’s… it’s you,” I kind of mumbled.

“Dude, really?” she said, looking a little shocked but not like an annoyed shocked if that makes sense, more a ‘wow’ shocked.

“Yeah, like I know it’s a bit creepy and weird given that we’re sitting talking right now, but you wanted honesty so… yeah. My ultimate sexual fantasy would be having sex with you.”

I’d done what she’d asked, my cards were laid out on the table so to speak. If she threw me out from here, at least I could say I’d been honest.

“Man, that took guts admitting that to me,” she said, much to my surprise. “Well, share and share alike I guess, as promised. You wanna hear mine?”

She had my full and unrequited attention. I mean I was still reeling slightly from the fact that she hadn’t thrown me out after I’d admitted to wanting to bone her more than anything else in the world, but she had my attention nonetheless.

“I love being cummed into,” she started. “And not just like a little, it’s the biggest thing for me.”

At this point I probably should have just reacted normally like she had to my confession, but all of my energy was now pooling into trying not to get a boner. The woman of my dreams had just told me she loves being cummed inside of, so cut me some slack.

“The problem is that most guys just don’t, well… produce enough to keep me happy, you get me?” she continued. “So I have to resort to other things to get what I want…”

Like pieces of a jigsaw it all started falling into place for me.

“So that’s why it’s only guys…”

“Yeah.”

“And why you had us send you a photo and whether we were single or not…”

“I’m not selfish, I don’t wanna ruin someone’s relationship so I can have sex with them…”

My eyes went wide at her words. Was she saying for certain what I wondered she was?

“So that means that we might…” I said with a gulp.

“That’s the plan,” she said with an impish grin.

At this point I don’t know what came over me. I was being offered my greatest sexual fantasy on a silver platter, but for some reason I just couldn’t get my head around that and just kept talking.

“S-so all the other guys who have already been in here, did they…?”

“Most of them, yeah. One or two were gay, but you can’t win them all,” she laughed.

I took another gulp of water as I tried to get it clear in my head what she was saying. I was almost out again so I filled the glass back up. This was insane!

“I know by most standards it makes me sound like a whore but why shouldn’t I be allowed to enjoy myself you know? There are countless male celebrities who do exactly the same thing but the difference is if I do it and it gets out, my career is over. Does that seem fair to you?”

I shook my head and continued to drink nervously.

“I mean I can’t even be open with my family about this because of how taboo it seems to be, but if I get pleasure out of doing this and it doesn’t hurt anyone, why shouldn’t I right?”

I was understanding more and more the importance of this being a safe space. It felt like she was telling me all of her pent up frustrations at once, like I was the ultimate confidant. It would have felt really special and emotional at the time, but I was still struggling to hold back my erection. It felt like I might explode any minute if I didn’t just let it go soon.

“I guess there has to be some benefits to being famous,” I offered.

“Precisely,” she said with a smile. “Although don’t get me wrong, this isn’t actually the first time I’ve tried this. I’ve been thinking about doing it again for a while and when the opportunity came up, I felt like I had to take it, you know?”

“Yeah I… I get that.”

“Plus there’s something else I just love experiencing that I can’t get any other way… let me show you something…”

She got out her phone and showed me a picture. It was her in her outfit that she was wearing now but with her shirt pulled up. It showed her stomach, not completely flat but with only the smallest bit of podge to speak of.

“You see this?” she asked.

“Yeah?”

“Well, take a look now…”

She moved her legs so that they were crossed instead of against her chest and raised up her top. Her once relatively flat stomach was positively bloated. She looked like she was part way through a pregnancy. It was shocking to see out of context.