6 comments/ 26576 views/ 16 favorites Justin Bieber's Surrogate Mother Ch. 01 By: SusanJillParker Susan meets Justin Bieber in an empty elevator. It was late and Susan just wanted to go to bed after paying her last respects to her friend's mother who had died. It was an Irish funeral and there was as much drinking and laughing at her childhood friend Colleen's house as there were tears and sadness. Surely knowing that it would, she needed to get out of there before something happened, as always it did. Even at a funeral, the same old thing happened with drunken men hitting on her. Whispering their inappropriate words in her ear, they squeezed her ass and groped her breasts. They never failed to show her the lust they had for her by putting her hand on their cocks through their pants when pushing her up against the wall and trying to kiss her. Even old, Father Monahan trying to corner her in a room alone was intent on getting her down on her knees to give her more than just his blessing. Tired of fighting off men, she was tired of being sexually abused by drunken men and/or men who just wanted her for the night. She swore that the next man who touched her in an unwelcomed, sexual way would be sorry. Wishing and wanting to have a real loving relationship with a kind and caring man, she had enough of one night stands. Surely, being the good and attractive woman she is, there's someone out there for her. She hasn't dated anyone since her divorce and before when she was the faithful wife, albeit pressured by her Ex to experience the swinging lifestyle. Her ex-husband was the one who wanted to watch her having sex with other men and woman. Only, when she did what he wanted her to do, he deemed her a slut and dumped her. Thinking back now of her swinging days, it was more good than bad. She met a lot of nice people. Normal but for their abnormal and overactive libidos, she's glad she experienced that dark side of sexuality with having multiple partners while her husband watched, joined in, or masturbated in the corner. With a watchful eye of every man around her at that late hour, she walked the four blocks to her hotel. It was cold but she didn't care. She didn't dare take a ride from anyone at the funeral. They were all too drunk to drive. Besides, having been down that road many times before when accepting a ride from someone, with desperate groping and forced kissing while exposing their cocks to her, once getting her alone, they all tried to get her to have sex with them in the car. Spending the last hour with Colleen's friends and family singing old, Irish ballads and lullabies, she left there on a high note. Her apartment was stuffy with wall-to-wall people all talking at the same time and breathing in the same stale air. She needed some air and she needed to clear her mind of the alcohol before it was too late and she did something stupid with someone that she'd regret later. Eager to leave, she had enough and Colleen's apartment was too close to the hotel to even bother taking a cab. Besides, being that she had a little too much to drink too, the chill of the night air felt good. Finally alone with her thoughts, she remembered Colleen's mother, Maureen, and how kind she had been to her through the years. After losing contact with her friend for so many years, she was sad to receive the phone call from Colleen that her mother had passed. Much has happened since the good old days when she'd walk over the bridge from Boston to meet Colleen in a South Boston bar to hopefully meet someone nice from the old neighborhood. Now, after her marriage and subsequent divorce, she was alone. Then, after losing her job, being unemployed for a long time, and then losing everything in a flood, sometimes she wished she was dead too. Living life, on the other hand, has been hard, very hard. Compared to living, dying was easy. Yet, knowing there were so many others worse off, she was lucky that she had her health. Now living in the cramped space of a spare bedroom in a house owned by a kind Mennonite woman, better than sleeping in a shelter, eating in a mission, and roaming the unsafe streets of downtown Harrisburg as she did this time last year, she was lucky to have a roof over her head. Yet, feeling suffocated and trapped in the middle of nowhere on a farm with no one to talk to, sometimes she felt as if she was a prisoner in a minimum security women's prison with Margret, her hostess as her warden. Her own worst enemy by allowing the stress of her situation to get to her, she needed to get her life back. She needed a job and her own apartment. Always trying to fix her up with one of her four sons, her mind suddenly flooded with Colleen's mother telling everyone how pretty she was while making her feel so very special and so very loved whenever she was in her friend's house. Unlike her selfish, self-centered, and self-absorbed mother, Maureen was a kind and selfless mother. That was then and this is now. Times have changed and life must continue even if it meant continuing without Colleen's mother. No one made a big deal over her any more in the way that Colleen's mother had, except for men who wanted to fuck her and men who wanted her to suck them. It was the same, sad, old story with men. All the men she ever met were married or divorced with one foot in the past and the other in the present. Content just to sexually use and abuse her, none of the men she knew were wanted to leave their wives enough to put a ring on her finger. Filling a role and a need, she was nothing more than a little something on the side. Overdue for a stroke of luck before experiencing a stroke herself from being so alone, she wished something good would happen to her. There was a limousine pulling away from the curb of the hotel when she walked up to the front door. She wished someone would whisk her away in a limousine. Pretending that she was someone special to somebody, she wished someone would take her out on the town and treat her to dinner and a movie. She wondered who was in the limousine or who they dropped off at the hotel. It was a swanky hotel, a place she could never afford if Colleen hadn't paid for her bus fare and hotel room. She wished her life was different. She wished she was rich. She'd love to have a wedding reception here. She wished she had married better. Married to a Boston cop who made good money between overtime, special detail duty, and court appearances, she wished she had Colleen's life. Somehow life isn't always fair and things don't work out as planned. While Colleen always struggled in school, it's funny how Susan was always the smart one, the one who excelled in school, the one who's now drowning in unpaid student loans for the sake of graduating college in the hopes of getting a better job and having a better life. Even though she worked hard to obtain her American dream life, it's somehow oxymoronic that she's still unemployed, still homeless, and still living in the spare bedroom of a kind Mennonite woman. Now Colleen, barely a high school graduate, has everything that she wanted, a good husband, a happy marriage, three children, and a nice home, while she has nothing and no one. Susan walked through the revolving shiny brass and glass doors and through the huge chandeliered lit lobby of the hotel. Reverberating off the marble walls to fill the high ceilings as if she was arriving late for Sunday mass, her heels echoed her notice on the Travertine tiles that she had arrived, even though she hadn't. Nothing more than an interloper, a fake, a phony, and a fraud, her travel expenses were paid by Colleen for her to be here to pay her last respects to her friend's deceased mother. The hotel, except for the doorman out front, and except for the desk clerk in the lobby, was empty. Everyone who was supposed to arrive had arrived before everyone who was supposed to leave filled the lobby to leave in the morning. No doubt, all the guests were in their rooms having sex, watching television, or sleeping. With an entire bank of empty elevators waiting for her, as if destine to take this particular elevator at this particular time, Susan walked on an elevator that the doors were already open. There was a kid wearing a black, leather jacket leaning innocuously against the back wall. She took note of him but didn't get a good look at him because he had a head full of long hair and had his head down as if he was drunk on alcohol, high on drugs, and/or sleeping. She pushed her floor and the elevator doors closed. She pushed her floor again when the elevator wasn't moving. "The elevator isn't moving," she said obviously waking him up when he yawned and stretched to the man behind her. "Don't you know who I am?" He looked up at her and smiled. "Should I know who you are?" She looked at him with the attitude of a woman who just wanted to go to bed alone. "Yeah," he said. "My face is plastered everywhere." He pushed his hair out of his beady, brown eyes and looked at her with his pearly, white teeth. He was just a kid. He couldn't have been more than twenty-years-old and 5'7" tall. With her high heels and hair up, she towered over him by six inches. "No, I don't know who you are but you look a little like Justin Bieber," she said with a laugh. "Sorry, if I insulted you by saying you looked like that goofball," she said. "I am Justin Bieber," he said striking a pose. "I accept your apology," he said with a bow. "No kidding. Wow. Every teenyboppers' fantasy, I'm trapped in an elevator with Justin Bieber," she laughing before looking from him to stare at the closed elevator doors. "What should we do? Should we press something or call someone? There's usually a phone to call security," she said looking back at him in her inebriated fog before helplessly staring at the elevator panel. Justin walked past her to insert his key to his penthouse suite. The elevator silently moved. Bypassing her floor, the elevator suddenly became an express elevator to the top "You're very good looking for an old broad," he said leaning in to sniff her hair as if he was a dog and she was something to eat or hump. "You smell like cigarettes and whiskey. You smell like I do when I do Vegas," he said with a laugh. "Thank you for your rude comment but I'm hardly old and I'm not a broad," she said insulted. "I just turned forty in July." "You're old to me," he said. "I'll be nineteen on March first." "Wow. Nineteen. You make me feel so old," she said watching the lights flash as the elevator climbed higher. "Where are you taking me?" "To my penthouse suite." "The penthouse? I've never been in a penthouse suite," she said looking at him. "How expensive is that?" "I stay here for free." "Free? You do?" She looked at him impressed. "What do you perform for the hotel in exchange for your room?" "I own the hotel," he said beaming with pride. "You own this hotel," she said with a laugh, "or does your daddy own this hotel?" "My Dad's been out of my life for a long time," he said with hard to hide sadness. "It's just me and my Mom now. We're a team. We're always together. We're inseparable," he said looking her over real good before a look of anger controlled his face. "My Mom had be buy the hotel as an investment should my fifteen minutes of fame end and my career not continue," he said with a smile. "You're Mom's a smart woman. The public is fickle when it comes to celebrities," she said. "Here today and gone to tomorrow. "My Mom makes mistakes. She's not so smart, especially when it comes to men," he said acting as if he was jealous that his mom had a man in her life other than him. She's no psychiatrist but if she was a doctor, her diagnosis would be was that he was a bit too attached to his mother. Reading the sudden look of jealous anger that consumed his face, she figured there was an incestuous story there to tell. Somehow, she could just hear him say, 'I love you Mommy.' Yet, meaning it in the way that a man loves a woman and not in the way that a son should love his mother, she could only imagine how fucked up he was to travel the country with his mother alone as if he was still a boy instead of a man. "What are you doing? You went by my floor," she said already forgetting that he told her that he was taking her to his penthouse. "My room is on the sixth floor, not the thirtieth," she said looking up at the numbers climbing before turning to confront him. "Where are you taking me?" "I thought you'd like to see my suite and maybe have a drink," he said giving her the eye. "I'll come see your place but I'll take a rain check on the drink. You're not old enough to legally drink and I already had enough to drink. I just came from an Irish funeral. My best friend's mother died," she said. "The reason why I smell like cigarettes and whiskey," she said pulling her hair forward to smell it. "My condolences. If you give me her address later, I'll send flowers," he said. "Thank you," she said. "You can take a shower at my place," he said with excitement. "I bet you'd like that, wouldn't you?" She looked at him with certainty that he was a pervert. "Me showering in one of the many bathrooms of your suite, I don't think so. What do you have them all wired with video cameras to watch me undress and shower?" "No, not at all. You have me all wrong. I'm nothing like that," he said. "Well, here we are," he said when the elevator doors parted. Easily 6,000 square feet, a two story mansion sized, luxury apartment on the very top of a swanky hotel, she never imagined there was a suite as big as this atop a hotel. Having never been in a penthouse suite before, she was eager to take a tour. It wasn't until she saw his wall of photos of himself with celebrities and a whole wall of trophies and awards that she not only recognized him but also believed him that he was Justin Bieber. The reality of who he was took hold of her as if she was a star struck teenager. "I don't believe it. You're Justin Bieber," she said. "In the flesh," he said fixing his hair while staring at himself in the mirror. "I never liked you. I don't know why but I always figured you for a pervert," she said seeing the hurt in his eyes. "I'm sorry. That's not me talking. That's the alcohol. Alcohol for me is like a truth serum. I can't tell a lie and am brutally honest." "Would you do me a big favor?" "What?" "Would you go to bed with me?" "Pardon?" "Would you sleep with me?" "No," she said wrapping her arms around herself. "I won't sleep with you," she said looking at him as if he was Quasimodo or Victor Hugo's Hunchback of Notre Dame. "Why not?" He looked at her with interest as if she was the answer to his dreams. "Because I'm old enough to be your mother and you're young enough to be my son. Eww. I'm no cougar," she said. "Just the thought of having sex with a nineteen-year-old makes my skin crawl," she said. "Sex is not part of the equation. Just as you don't want to have sex with me. I don't want to have sex with you. I just want to sleep," he said. "Sleep? Yeah, sure, been there and done that before. I'm just tired and want to take a nap is what they all say," she said. "Then once you get me in bed it's a wrestling match." "Listen honey, I have money, lots and lots of money. I can give you whatever you want and whatever you need but more importantly, I can give you all those things that you don't really need, such as, cars, trips, jewelry, furs, furniture, and more shoes," he said with a laugh before suddenly looking sad. "Why would you buy me things when I won't have sex with you?" She looked at him with curiosity. "Seriously, I just want to get a good night's sleep. If you just spend the night with me to keep me company, you'd make me happy and I'd be very generously grateful for the favor of your company. I hate being alone. I don't want to be alone. I can't sleep when I'm alone," he said. "Where's your mother?" She looked around him. "My Mom's not here. She stayed home this trip," he said tensing. "She's been seeing someone and, suddenly, she doesn't have time for me," he said banging his fist with anger on a table. "Yeah, well, what I don't need is you, your drama, and whatever is going on between you and your mother. So if you could unlock the elevator door, I'd like to leave please," she said with authority. He looked around his suite as if she wasn't even there and spoke as if talking to himself. "Look at all this stuff. Suddenly, I feel a little like Michael Jackson. No one needs all this stuff." He looked at her standing by the elevator and ready to bolt. "Do you know how many cars I have?" He looked as if waiting for her to guess before looking away. "I don't have a clue how many cars you have. Can I please leave now?" "I have too many cars to count, a Bentley, a custom Cadillac, a Ferrari, Lamborghini, and a Porsche just to name a few. Answer me one question," he said looking at her again. "Why do I have so many cars when I only need the one car?" "I really don't care," she said. "I never thought I'd reach a point where I no longer wanted anything and I've done that already when I'm not even 19-years-old. Already bored with life, what am I supposed to do now?" He looked to her for answers and when she didn't give him an answer, he asked her another question. "More importantly, what am I supposed to do later in my life?" He was pathetic and she somehow felt sorry for the poor, rich man. "Everyone wants something Justin. May I call you Justin?" "Yes, of course. What's your name? So wrapped up in myself, I don't even know your name," he said. "Susan. Susan Jill Parker," she said holding her hand out to shake his hand. "Even the very wealthy want something," said Susan talking to him as if she was his mother instead of a stranger, a woman he just met. "Just ask yourself what do you want? What do you really want in life? For someone who already has everything and who could have anything, I have more than you do because I have myself and I happen to like who I am," she said. "I can see that about you. I like you," he said. "You exude confidence. You know what to do in any situation, which is why I want you to spend the night with me." "If you think that you can pay me money to have sex with you, then you can forget about that," she said giving him a vile look. "I'm not a whore. I'm not a prostitute. Besides, you're half my age. I don't have sex with minors." "I'm not a minor." he said. "I'll be nineteen in six weeks. Besides, don't flatter yourself. I don't want to have sex with you. I'd rather have sex with a woman my age. Besides, I have a girlfriend." "Then, I don't understand," she said looking at him with a motherly look. "Why do you want me to sleep with you when you prefer women your age and when you have a girlfriend?" "Because, obviously, I want my mother. I want my mommy. Since she's not here, I'll pay you to take her place," he said as if he was a little boy lost and trapped in the body of a 19-year-old soon to be a man. "You have a funny way of showing you don't want to have sex with me by offering me money to spend the night with you," she said just now appreciating the fact that Justin Bieber asked her to sleep with him. "I'm sorry," he said. "That was wrong for me to disrespect you like that. Sometimes I come off too strong. I think everything and everyone is for sale and that I can have whatever I want, whenever I want it. Please forgive me," he said looking at her. "I need your help." "My help? Me help you? Why should I? Why me?" "Because you're beautiful, sexy, shapely, and older than me. Even though you look nothing like my mother, you're more my Mom's age," he said. "Your Mom? You have a crush on your Mom?" "Crush? I wouldn't call what we have a crush. I'd more call it a sexual, incestuous relationship," he said with a laugh and without embarrassment. Justin Bieber's Surrogate Mother Ch. 01 "Eww," said Susan. "You have sex with your mother?" "Not all the time and even less now that she's taken up with that dirty bastard, Chris Harrison? He left his wife to be with my mother." "Chris Harrison of the Bachelor and Bachelorette shows and the Miss America beauty pageant? That Chris Harrison?" "Yeah, he's the asshole who stole my Mom from me. Anyway," he said looking at her, "most times we just sleep together and that's where you come in," he said. "What do you mean?" "I can't sleep. I haven't slept for two days. I need my mother with me to sleep," he said. "Please just sleep with me without sex." "No, I can't do that," she said, "sleep with you for the sake of sleeping with you. I don't know which is worse, sleeping with you or having sex with you," she said with a laugh. "I believe that there's a reason for everything and the reason why you stepped in that elevator at that moment was to comfort me," he said with a confident smile. "Comfort you? I don't even know you," she said. "How can I possibly comfort you? Moreover, you have some serious psychological issues if you think that the entire universe revolves around you and your mother." "I'll pay you fifty-thousand-dollars to sleep with me," he said reaching in his jacket pocket and writing out a check for fifty-thousand-dollars. "I don't care how much money you offer me, I already told you that I'm not having sex with you," she said. "I'm not asking you for sex. I just need some sleep. Please. Seriously, I haven't slept in two days. I can't sleep without my Mom there to hold me," he said. "Please, I need your help. I desperately need some sleep. I have a big concert tomorrow night and I'm so very tired. Please?" "Okay," she said taking the check from his hand, "but we just sleep." "Yes," he said. "No sex," she said. "No sex," he said. To be continued... Justin Bieber's Surrogate Mother Ch. 02 Susan becomes Justin Bieber's surrogate mother "And I sleep with my clothes on and you do too," she said. "Right?" "Okay," he said. Susan put his fifty-thousand dollar check in her purse and followed him to the master bedroom. His bedroom was nearly bigger than Colleen's entire apartment. She couldn't wait to tell Colleen what happened. She couldn't wait to tell her friend that she not only met Justin Bieber but also that she's sleeping with him, so to speak. She'd never believe her. No one would believe her. "Do you have a preference?" She looked at him with curiosity. "Preference? What do you mean, do I have a preference?" "Which side of the bed do you sleep?" She looked at him while waiting for his response. Even though he was so horribly young, he was nice looking and, being that she was thinking about having sex with him now, she could understand why his own mother would want to have sex with him. "Oh. The right side. I always sleep on the right side. I can't get comfortable on the left side of the bed for some reason," he said. "Okay," she said removing her heels and raising her skirt to scoot over on the bed. "I just have one request," he said. "What?" Ungrateful that he just paid her fifty-thousand dollars to just sleep with her without having sex with her, she dared to have an attitude. As if her patience was already taxed and at the limit and as if her kindness was exhausted, expecting to hear his request that would be the last straw to break the camel's back, she gave him a knowing look that he was going to ask her for sex and, seemingly, indeed he was. "Would you mind removing your underwear, your bra and panty?" My underwear? Fuck him. No way! She knew it. His ploy was just to get her in his bedroom and on his bed. "Sorry, but I'm not removing my bra and panty. Uh-uh. You said there'd be no sex," she said. "You said you just needed me to sleep with you as in closing your eyes, keeping your hands to yourself, and going to sleep. You said you were tired and desperately needed some sleep to be fresh for your concert." "I know what I said and I meant what I said lady. I am tired and I do need sleep. Here I am about to sleep with you and I'm sorry but I forgot your name," he said with a laugh. "Susan. Susan Jill Parker," she said again. Stating his case why he needed her to remove her underwear, he looked at her with sad, brown eyes. "My Mom always sleeps with me in her nightgown without wearing any underwear. It's not a sexual thing unless we want it to be and I always sleep with my head upon her breast and my hand in between her legs." "What? Your head on her breast and your hand in between her legs? Eww. Gross. That's just nasty. Listen buddy, I don't know what kind of game you're playing here with me but--" "Justin. Not buster and not buddy, please call me Justin, Susan." "Listen Justin, if you think I'm going to allow you to sleep with your head on my braless tit while your horny hand is in between my legs in the red zone of my pussy than you're--" "Rest assured that I don't want your body. I just want to sleep and this is how I've slept with my mother for nearly the past 2 years, since I turned 18-years-old. What if I give you another fifty-thousand-dollars for you to remove your underwear," he said taking out his checkbook again and writing another check. "Is that fair?" Against her better judgment to continue down this road of perverse debauchery but he was offering her another fifty-thousand dollars, more money than she's made in the last several years combined. When added to the first fifty-thousand dollars, that's one-hundred-thousand dollars. Where could she earn that kind of money for just sleeping for one night with Justin Bieber without her underwear? "Lemme get this straight. You'll pay me one-hundred-thousand dollars to sleep with you, but not sleep with you, but to really sleep with you without sex, so long as I remove my panty and bra for you to rest your head on my tit and leave your hand precariously between my legs," she said. "Is that it?" She stared at him incredulously. "Yes," he said handing her the second check for fifty-thousand dollars. "Okay," she said, "but no monkey business. I mean it. No fingering my pussy in the middle of the night. No fingering and sucking my nipples in the middle in the night and no sticking your cock in my mouth," she said. "No sex period. Got it?" "Okay. I have it only I can't promise you what I do in my sleep but yes, no consciously fingering your pussy in the middle of the night, no consciously fingering and sucking your nipples, and no consciously sticking my cock in your mouth," he said crossing his heart and crossing his fingers. "Okay?" "Okay," she said. "I promise you Susan that I just want to get a good night's sleep. I'm tired. I'm so very tired. Always having slept with my mother since I turned 18-years-old, I can't sleep without sleeping with my mother there holding me and making me feel that everything will be alright. All that I want you to be is my surrogate mother. Okay?" "Okay," she said tucking his second check away in her pocketbook. "Thank you," he said. Susan turned her back to remove her blouse and bra. She put her blouse back on but her blouse was so sheer that he could definitely see her nipples through her blouse in the bright light of the bedroom. "Turn off the light," she said folding her arms across her breasts until the light was extinguished. As soon as he turned off the light, she reached beneath her short skirt and removed her panty. Then, she thought that she'd ruin her clothes if she slept in them. With all the money he just gave her, she could afford to buy new clothes, of course, but appearing that she slept in her clothes, her clothes would be terribly wrinkled for her to walk out in public to go shopping. "What are you doing over there?" "I'm getting undressed," she said pausing. "Listen. I believe you about you sleeping with your mother just for comfort and not for sex. To be honest, I sleep in the buff and I can't sleep unless I'm naked, that is, unless I'm sleeping in my warm, oversized, flannel nightgown. If I was to sleep in my clothes, I'd feel suffocated. I'll strip naked so long as you promise me you'll behave and not touch, feel, fondle, and caress my naked body." "That's a relief," he said with a laugh. "What do you mean? What's a relief?" "I sleep naked too but after asking you to remove your bra and panty, I didn't know how to broach that subject with you of me sleeping naked without you thinking that I just wanted to have sex with you," he said. "So, lemme get this straight. When you're sleeping with your mother, you're naked?" "Yes." "And is your mother naked too?" "Sometimes but not always. She's only 37-years-old and still gets her period," he said as if he was talking about his wife instead of his mother. "Wow! Fuck me," she said, "I'm going to have a night of Bieber balls pressed against my thigh," she said with a dirty laugh. "Okay, you can strip naked but, I swear to God Justin, if I feel your cock anywhere other than the side of my thigh, our deal is over, I keep the money, and walk. I mean it. Do you understand?" "Okay. It's a deal," he said stripping off his clothes in the dark. "Thank you for doing this Susan," he said. "I really appreciate this. I really need a good night's sleep." Even in the dark she could see he had an erection and even in the dark she could see that he had a big cock. For such a small man he had a really, big cock. Too focused on her dire straits of unemployment, homelessness, and poverty, it had been quite some time since she had intimate relations with anyone. Being that she was naked with a naked, young man, a celebrity, and a man who had an immense cock, she was suddenly horny. They both climbed in bed and pulled the sheet over their naked bodies. "How do you want me?" A loaded question, if he had asked her how she wanted him, in the way she felt right now and in a room so dark that she couldn't see who she was with, she'd answer that she'd want his head in between her legs and his tongue licking her pussy. Then, she realized that she was a 40-year-old woman lusting over a 19-year-old boy of a man. Sexually, she wasn't any better than his mother. Then again, being that she wasn't his mother, she was better than his mother. Only, not understanding why Justin would want his mother when he could have anyone, being that her son had a big, hard cock, she could understand why his mother would want her son in that incestuous way. "On your back," he said. "I'd like you on your back please, if you don't mind." "I generally sleep on my left side," she said. "Well, after I get comfortable and begin to nod off, it won't much matter to me what side you're sleeping on then. Once I'm asleep or about to fall asleep, you can move to your left side and I'll spoon you. Okay?" "Spoon me?" Suddenly, she imagined his big, hard cock rubbing up against her firm, round ass. She imagined him having sex with her doggie style while he fondled her big tits and fingered her big nipples from behind. Maybe this is his plan all along. Yet, she was the one who volunteered to strip naked. "Okay, but if I feel you trying to stick your cock up my ass or in my pussy then--" "I won't. Always having sex with her in the morning, I never have sex with my Mom at night," he said. "We're both morning people." "Eww. That's too much information Justin. I think I just threw up a little in my mouth," she said. "Wait," she said. "What?" "I need to use the ladies room first. Do you have an extra tooth brush? I can't sleep unless I floss and brush my teeth," she said. "Yes, of course. There are extra toothbrushes in the bathroom. Everything you need is in the bathroom. Compliments of my hotel, there's even a robe and slippers for you to wear, if you'd like," he said. "You may keep the robe and slippers too when you leave." Susan moved to her back and Justin, just as he said he would, put his head on one breast with his hand resting in between her legs and just a mere few inches from her pussy. His hand was so close to her pussy that his left thumb tickled her blonde, trimmed pubic hair whenever he moved. His mouth was so very close to her nipple that her nipple responded to the anticipation of the touch his lips and erected. As if this was a sexual torture test or a sexual therapy class work assignment to be done at home as homework, wishing he'd inappropriately touch her in the dark and already determined that she'd offer no resistance, she was already horny for him. Truth be told, she was the one he had to worry about and not the other way around. Truth be told, she wanted him more than he wanted her. They slept like that for forty-five minutes before Susan moved to get more comfortable. As soon as she moved, he moved and now her hand was trapped between her thigh and his cock. It had been a while since she felt a cock in her hand and, big and hard, his cock felt good pressed against her hand. Obviously sound asleep and not wanting to waken him, she felt his erection grow in the palm of her hand. Stealthily and silently, moving her body a few inches away from him to feel more of his cock, she couldn't help but want to feel his hardness with her long fingers. His erect cock made her horny and she imagined what his cock would feel like in her mouth and in her pussy. Then, with his lips right on her nipple and his hand now cupping her pussy in the way she imagined he did with his mother, indeed, this sleeping position was is if they were taking a sexual therapy class and told not to sexually touch one another. So close and yet so far, she couldn't believe his lips were in contact with her nipple. If he opened his lips, her nipple would be inside of his mouth. With the movement of her breathing, up and down and up and down, she could feel the touch of his lips sexually exciting her. Purely for the pleasure of herself, she exaggerated her breathing to feel more contact from his lips on her nipple. Her nipple was so erect and so hard that she actually wished that he'd suck her nipple. With his sleeping fingers not moving to finger her, she couldn't believe his hand was cupping her pussy. With his fingers so close and yet so far, having never thought about incestuous sex before between a mother and son, she was aroused now thinking about Justin and his Mom having sex. His temporary surrogate mother, here she was reenacting his sleeping position and she wondered if he'd take her in the morning and have sex with her. In the way she felt now, going with the horny flow, she'd offer no resistance. Minutely moving around on the pretense for a more comfortable position, she felt his index finger poised on her pussy slit. She was already wet enough that if he dared press down upon her pussy slit in his sleep, he'd penetrate her enough to feel her wetness. Wishing he would, she could use a bit of sexual relief right now. Then, when she spread her legs just a little more, enough to part her pussy lips, his finger slipped inside and touched her wetness. With his hand and fingers unmoving, she seductively, silently, and ever so slowly and slightly moved her hips to give herself a gentle masturbation rub with his finger. Between his lips poised by her nipple, her hand on his cock, and his finger practically inside of her pussy, she was out of her mind with sexually lust for Justin Bieber, of all people, someone she never even liked. Then, when she imagined his mother sleeping like this in this position with her son, the image of them being so incestuously, sexually intimate aroused her even more. Just as she wondered if he licked his mother's pussy, she wondered if his mother sucked his cock. She wondered if she allowed her son to cum in her mouth. If she did suck his cock and allowed him to cum in her mouth, she wondered if she swallowed. With a gentle hand over his finger, it didn't take very much pressure from her hand to force his finger inside of her while pretending that she was his mother and he was her son. With him still sleeping, she continued moving her hips and while finger fucking herself and rubbing her clit with his sleeping finger. No doubt, the sexual fantasy of millions of women, she couldn't believe that Justin Bieber was masturbating her in his sleep. With his cock still in contact with her hand and her nipple practically in his mouth, his finger felt so good inside of her pussy. Then, using her other hand to move and position herself, she angled her body just a few millimeters for him to take her nipple in his mouth. No doubt, a reflexive action, in the way of a baby sucking a nipple, he accommodated her need to have her tit sucked by parting his lips in his sleep. As if he was talking or singing in his sleep, she felt his tongue on her nipple before she felt his lips sucking her nipple. With the sexual sensation of it all driving her sexually frustratingly insane, between his finger in her pussy, her nipple in his mouth and her hand on his cock, she couldn't take it anymore. So wanting to suck him, desperately, she needed to fuck him. She moved to her side and immediately he moved closer to spoon her. When he draped his arm over her, impossible to reach over her without feeling her big tit, she moved his hand to her erect nipple. As if his finger was busy playing his guitar, trumpet, or keyboard in his sleep, he fingered her erect nipple. Excited by the feel of his hand on her big breast and his finger fingering her nipple, she was out of her mind with sexual lust for him when she felt his hard cock poking her in the ass. She imagined she was his mother and he was her son. She imagined Justin taking her, his mother, from behind. She imagined her fucking her son. With her pussy already wet enough to accommodate him, she moved her body to angle her hips and then gently pushing against him, she felt the head of his cock slide inside of her pussy. Justin Bieber's cock was in her pussy. She couldn't believe it. Justin Bieber was making love to her. She was being fucked, so to speak, by a celebrity, albeit a sleeping celebrity. Gently rocking herself, she moved her hips in and out as his cock slid deeper inside of her as he continued feeling her tit and fingering her nipple in his sleep. Already ready to orgasm, she reached around behind her to wrap her hand around his engorged prick as he fucked her from behind. She hoped he'd cum inside of her. She hoped he'd make her pregnant. She wouldn't mind being the mother of a love child from Justin Bieber. No longer able to stand the nonsense of a sleeping fuck she turned around and slid her body halfway down the bed to take his cock in her mouth. She was blowing him. She was sucking Justin Bieber's big, hard cock. With him not having slept for two days, he was dead to the world. Nonetheless his unconscious sleep, he took her head in between her hands and humped her mouth and fucked her face in his sleep. Then, when she felt him getting aroused enough to cum, she slid her body up to meet his lips. As soon as she kissed he, he was awake. Returning her French kisses with his, they kissed and kissed while she reached down to stuff his cock in her wet cunt. They were fucking now, really fucking. They didn't make love for more than a few minutes before he exploded a huge load of cum inside of her and as soon as he did he fell asleep again. Keeping to her previous agreement, except for the sex, she held him in the way his mother held him with his head on her breast and his hand in between her legs. To be continued...