DISCLAIMER:

The stories in the "Celebrity" section of Literotica are all fictional parodies - none are true, nor are they approved of by the celebrities named in the stories. Authors write these fictitious stories about famous people for the same reason that Larry Flynt made fun of Jerry Falwell, because they can. The Supreme Court of the United States, the country where this site is located, has ruled that parodies involving famous people are perfectly and totally legal under the United States Constitution. The specific case law on this was decided in the case of "Hustler Magazine, Inc. et al. v. Jerry Falwell" in 1988. No harm is intended toward the celebrities featured in these stories, but they are public figures and in being so, they must accept that they are fair target for parodies by the public. We believe in the first amendment, and more broadly, in the basic principle of free speech and this section may push the boundaries of that principle, but the United States Supreme Court has approved of this type of material. We believe that the Supreme Court was correct in their decision.

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This, as are all of my stories, is a true story.

My eyes not, yet, adjusting from the darkness of my bedroom to the glow from my watch, required me to stare at my watch, again, as if I was in a drunken stupor. Fuck! It was midnight.

My plan of going to bed early for once was foiled. At first, the distant bark of my dog did not sufficiently register enough to awaken me. His barking became part of my dream, actually, with him there in the other room barking in my dream, suddenly. Then, when he continued barking is when I awoke annoyed that my sleep was interrupted and my dream ruined.

Now, lying in bed with my eyes open and staring up at the shadows on the ceiling, I was still groggy with sleep. Then, I heard it, the distinctive creak of the steps that led from the first floor to the second floor down the hall from my bedroom.

Fear replaced sleepiness and panic replaced fear. I could not awaken from my slumber and regain my senses fast enough. Again, my dog barked. When this is over, I will give my good watchdog a cookie.

Silently, I opened my drawer, pulled out my handgun, loaded the clip, chambered a bullet, and took it off safety. Now, I was wide awake. Now, I was ready. Now, I was angry. How dare someone break into my house? They had better have life insurance and their personal affairs in order. I reached for my cell phone. Ready with my cell phone in one hand and my gun in the other, I listened before dialing 911.

Just as I was about to hit the send button on the cell phone and call out, I have a gun and the police are on their way, I heard the steps creak, again, this time, along with giggling and muffled laughter. There were more than one person outside my bedroom door, several, in fact by the boisterousness of their activity.

I emptied the chamber, removed the clip, put the gun back on safety, hid it away in the drawer, and put down my cell phone. I sat up, rubbed my eyes, and shook away the last of the dream that I was having, my usual, sex with celebrities.

This dream was a new one, though. Paris Hilton, now an ex-con, but dressed in a smart and fitted designer white and black vertically striped, instead of the customary horizontal stripe, prison outfit resplendent with her prison number, 90210, was giving me a blow job while Lindsay Lohan, a soon to be an ex-con, was sitting on my face while eating ice cream, Rocky Road. Why ice cream? Why Rocky Road? Weird.

Normally, I dream of older celebrity women my age, such as, Christie Brinkley and Cybill Shephard, but I ate oysters that night and, in anticipation of my celebrity dream, retired smiling wildly at the thought of getting an erection while I dreamed my dream and maybe jerking off over it, later. Now, I just had a stomachache.

"Shh...be quiet...shh," I heard a woman's voice say in a strained whisper accompanied with more muffled laughter.

Figuring it was my friends playing a practical joke on me by trying to scare me after having had a long discussion the night before about the history of the old house that I live in and sufficiently filling my imagination with the suspicions that it might be haunted, I got up and stood by the door listening. Deciding that I would turn the tables on them by scaring them and ruining their fun, I went to the bedroom door in my briefs and was about to turn the knob and fling open the door when I recognized their voices.

It can't be. But how did they find me? How did they get in my house? I don't believe it. They must have followed me home when I left the Celebrity Ball last week. No, wait; of course, I was driven home by one of their chauffeurs. He told them where I lived, of course. Yes, that is how they found me. Matter of fact, my bicycle is still in the trunk of the limo. I forgot to retrieve it because I was on cloud nine after having had group sex with Stephen Powers, Debbie Reynolds, and et al who attended the Celebrity Ball.

"Shh...be quiet, you'll wake him," said a female voice followed by more giggling and muffled laughter. "Shh, c'mon, I want to catch him sleeping so that I can suck his cock while he sleeps. Imagine him awaking to see me with his cock in my mouth."

Oh, my God. I could not believe she said that. Farrah Fawcett is such a slut, but I like it.

My dog was going berserk now growling and barking. One of them, Bo Derek, by the sound of her voice, she loves animals, went in the room to quiet my dog.

"It's okay, Sweetie," she said, "It's okay. That's a good boy. He's a good dog." My dog loves women. He was happy and now quiet.

My cock stirred and suddenly came to life with the anticipation of it in Farrah Fawcett's mouth. Quickly, I removed my briefs and launched myself back in bed, closed my eyes, and pretended to be asleep.

These women would never make it as burglars. Even though they tried to be quiet, they made more noise than if they were at a CFNM show. They must all be drunk.

Then, I wondered how they got in my house but remembered that I may have not locked the back door when I let out the dog. It is funny the things that you forget to do when you have a break in routine. Normally, I go to bed around 11pm, put out the dog and bring in the dog, before setting the alarm. Now, thinking about it, I did not even set the alarm. Well, that explains it. I could have been murdered in my sleep. Now, instead, I laughed to myself, I am about to be seduced while pretending to be sleeping.

Farrah was the first one in the bedroom. I could see her and the rest of the celebrities, cast in the glow of the hall nightlight that shimmered behind them, by opening my eyes just a tiny slit. There standing behind her were Cheryl Ladd, Loni Anderson, Lynda Carter, Shelley Long, Candice Bergman, and Bo Derek holding my dog. They watched as Farrah crept to my bed and peeled away the sheet from my torso. Already, I had a nice erection.

"He's naked," whispered Farrah turning to the others. "And he has an erection," she giggled.

"Guys always get hard while they sleep," said Loni. "I remember when I was married to Burt; he always poked me with that pole of his in the middle of the night."

"It feels good." Farrah wrapped her hand around my cock and stroked me. "It's bigger than Ryan's cock."

"He does have a nice cock," said Cheryl Ladd. I cannot believe that Cheryl Ladd not only saw my cock but also said that it is a nice one.

"Farrah, if you suck his cock, I'm leaving," said Candice putting her hands on her hips in the way that she did when she played Murphy Brown. "That is really too much and going too far. First we break into his house and now, oh, God, she's blowing him. That's it, I'm out of here."

"Wait, don't go," said Lynda Carter, the former Miss America and of Wonder Woman fame. "Don't you want to watch and see the look on his face when he awakens?"

"Watching Farrah suck his cock is making me horny," said Bo.

"I want some of that," said Shelley, as she unbuttoned and removed her blouse and skirt. She knelt by the bed in her panty and bra and when Farrah released me from her mouth, she took her turn. Shelley wrapped her hand around my cock, stroked me, and swirled her tongue around my bulbous knob, as she deep throated me over and again. Boy that felt so good.

I could not believe that I was getting a blow job from, first, Farrah Fawcett and, now, Shelley Long.

"Oh, what the Hell, I want to have some fun, too," said Lynda stripping down to her panty and bra.

Shelley moved away from me and Lynda knelt between my legs and wrapped her hand around my cock stroking me sensually before taking me in her mouth. She fondled her nipple through her bra as she blew me. I so wanted to put my hands around each side of Lynda's face, as she bobbed her head up and down. I so wanted to reach my hands down and caress her magnificent tits through her bra. I so wanted to remove her bra and suck her nipples. Only, I did not want them to know that I was awake, yet.

"Well, I'm here now," said Candace, stripping down to just her panties, "I may as well get off, too." Candice had cute little A cup tits. Cheryl Ladd followed her lead and removed all her clothes except for her panties. She had nice B cup tits. I watched Bo Derek strip naked after she put down my dog. Bo's tits were magnificent C cups. Now, they were all on the bed taking turns blowing me, while laughing, talking, and giggling.

I was ready to cum. I laid there with my eyes wide open watching one after another after another remove my cock from their mouth before the next one inserted me in her mouth.

"He's awake," said Candace.

"Now, we can have some real fun," said Loni.

"Oh, my God, am I dreaming? Pinch me," I said. "Ow! Did you have to pinch me so hard, Shelley?"

"What the big, strong muscleman can't stand a little pain?" She pulled out a whip from out of nowhere. "Get ready for some discipline, Freddie. Mistress Shelley is—"

"Knock it off, Shelley," said Candace. "You're scaring the guy. Look you made his cock limp."

"Yeah, obviously," said Bo, "he's not into the rough stuff."

"I know what he likes," said Loni.

"I know what he wants," smiled Lynda.

Both women removed their bras came closer toward me topless. Oh, yeah, tits. How did they know that I love tits? I asked the question.

"How did you women know that I love tits?"

"We read your story, Tits, Freddie," said Bo who was already naked and ready to join in the fun that was about to begin with Loni and Lynda.

There they were Loni Anderson, Lynda Carter, and Bo Derek hanging their round, firm knockers in my face. I had my hands and mouth moving from one big breast to another fabulous tit. My cock grew to the biggest it has ever been.

I do not know how long we were fucking and sucking but it was well into the next day before we all collapsed from exhaustion. When I was no longer able to satisfy a celebrity woman, hey, there is only so many times that I can get, maintain an erection, and cum, the women went at one another. Farrah enjoyed the charms of Shelley and Lynda brought Loni to a simmering boil while Cheryl and Candice were quietly alone in the far corner of the room making out like horny teenagers. Bo, my dear sweet Bo, never left my side.

We all fell asleep. Never have I been so satisfied, so relaxed, and so tired. We slept for hours. Even the dog slept soundly.

Then, I heard it, again, the creak of the stairs. Am I dreaming? Is this entire thing a dream? I popped my head up and looked around the room taking a quick attendance. Bo was asleep on my chest, Loni and Lynda lay on the other side of me, Farrah and Shelley found a place at the foot of the bed, and Cheryl and Candice, surrounded with pillows, were curled up on the floor and spooning in the far corner of the bedroom. No, not a dream, everyone is here.

Again, the distinctive creak of the stairs followed with hushed giggling and muffled laughter. I looked at my watch, midnight. What? Deja vu. It can't be. I lifted a slat of blind figuring that it was noon, but it was dark outside. It blew my mind. It was midnight of the next day. We had been together 24 hours.

Suddenly, my bedroom door burst open and the other ladies from last week's Celebrity Ball appeared, Ursula Andress, Julie Andrews, Bridgette Bardot, Carol Baker, Leslie Caron, Diahann Carroll, Joan Collins, Julie Christie, Angie Dickinson, Barbara Eden, Linda Evans, Annette Funicello, Lauren Hutton, Jill St. John, Gina Lollobridgida, Sophia Loren, Tina Louise, Ann Margaret, Mary Tyler Moore, Rita Moreno, Julie Newmar, Kim Novak, Debra Paget, Suzanne Pleshette, Jane Powell, Stephanie Powers, Debbie Reynolds, Diana Rigg, Jean Simmons, Elke Sommer, Stella Stevens, Elizabeth Taylor, Shirley Temple, Mamie Van Doren, and Raquel Welch. Awkward as Hell, all 35 women crowded in my bedroom. Now, with me and the original 7 women, there were 43 people in my bedroom, one man, me, with 42 women.

"We figured you'd be here with him," said Liz Taylor pointing a haughty finger of accusation at my dear, sweet Bo.

I sat up in bed looking from one celebrity to the next. They all looked hurt and rejected. Joan Collin, Diahann Carroll, Debbie Reynolds, Mary Tyler Moore, and Raquel Welch all looked like they were ready for a good cat fight with my younger lovelies. As much as I would have loved to see the women going at one another, I did not want to see anyone get hurt. Many of these women were elderly, after all, and how tragic would that be to read about their injuries or demise in the tabloids because of me.

Actually, now that I think of it, imagine celebrity women, albeit it over-the-hill celebrity women, fighting over me. I can see the Paparazzi now following my every move.

"That's him. There's Freddie, the Don Juan of the mature celebrity women."

There was a long and uncomfortable silence. The older women stared at the younger women while the younger women, outnumbered, avoided direct eye contact hoping, no doubt, to dissuade a physical confrontation. I had to do something, say something to reduce the tensions that I could feel building. I did not know what to do or what to say, so I did and said the first thing that came to mind.

I opened my nightstand drawer, pulled out a bottle of Viagra, and took one.

"Let's party!"

With that one head clearing remark, everyone got naked and we partied and had an all out orgy that lasted a week.