For a moment, I honestly didn’t think he was serious. A part of me wanted to remind him that there was a bustling restaurant full of people on the other side of that wall, but something stopped me. Maybe it was the look in his eyes. Maybe it was how horny I was. Maybe the night before had rendered me helpless to his every advance without me knowing.

I wasn’t sure. I undid the jeans, hesitated, then pushed them down my legs. I pulled one leg out, then the other. Justin never took his eyes off of me. I held the jeans out in the air, then dropped them to the floor. There I sat, outstretched, in my underwear. I held my hands out, then dropped them on the counter. “There.” I said, defeated. Whatever he wanted, I would give him, at that point.

His eyes traveled my body, slowly, top to bottom, then back again. 

“Do you want me to do a dance? Because there’s an hourly rate for that.”

Justin nodded at my waist , where only underwear remained, “Those, too.”

The smile on my face brightened. Why was this turning me on?! I took the thong off, as well. I wondered, as I slid my high heeled feet out of them, how I'd managed to get half naked without them falling off.  I dropped the underwear next to my jeans and leaned against the wall. I turned to the mirror to take a look at myself. Yep, there I was, sitting on a counter in a public restroom, half naked except for a slutty top and equally slutty black stelletos.

I, Trevion Spencer, was wearing stelletos.  Suddenly feeling sexier than Sharone Stone, I threw my head back to Justin and held my hand out.  "Come here."

He hesitated, and for a moment I was sure he was going to keep this mad game going for a few more minutes.  Then, very slowly, he stood tall from where he was leaning on the door.  He made his way over to me.  Every second that he came closer to my outstretched hand was another second that I couldn't believe what kind of hold I had over this man.

When he was close enough, I reached out and grabbed his dress shirt, tucking my fingers into the button holes.  “You know what I realized tonight?  You've got an extremily questionable variety of women in your life.  Where are all of the sane girls?” I popped open a botton on his shirt.  "Because every woman you've ever introduced me to has managed to be, remarkably, not sane.  Each one completely out of her mind in her own special way.  Present company..."  I lifted my eyes to his, "Absolutely included."

"I suppose I have a preference for crazy woman."  He gently dug his nails into the skin on my thighs, "It's not one of my better qualities."  His eyes ran laps in mine. “Last night didn’t just happen for me.”

“I know.”

“It wasn’t some random thing.”

I laid in forehead on his chest, “I know.” Could we please have sex now?

“It’s something that I’ve wanted with you for a long, long time, Trevion.”

I pulled back and looked up at him, wondering why he was telling me this. “I know.” I whispered. He took each of my ankles and swung me around so my legs were hanging over the edge. I leaned back against the mirror. “I’m yours.”

His entire demeanor instantly softened.

I tilted my head at him, “How can you not know that, by now?”

He lifted one of my legs and set one high heeled foot firmly on the counter, then the other. Covering each of my knees in his big hands, he slowly spread my legs, but never took his eyes off of me. He pushed himself in-between them, as pressed his lips to mine. The back of my head pushed hard against the mirror as he groaned and slipped his tongue past my lips. He kissed me slowly, carefully and dug his fingers into the skin of my thighs every time our tongues touched. I smiled when he pulled away. “You are one god damn hell of a kisser.” I licked my lips, “Damn you for being such a good kisser. How am I to despise you?” I tiled my head at him, “Huh? How?”

“I can’t stop…” He stared at me. “I can stop thinking about you.”

My vision shook at the intensity in his eyes. I couldn’t look away.

Justin shook his head, slowly running his hands down my spread thighs, lower and lower, until he was so close to my throbbing center that my eyes instinctively fluttered shut at the prospect of his touch. “… All I do is think about you.”

I opened my eyes at his words and the second they met his he slipped one finger inside me. He waited, then added another, and I lost all control. It felt so, so good. My spine instantly straightened and I clutched the counter as tight as I could. He moved his fingers inside of me and his thumb brushed against my clit. He ran slow, tortuous circles around it, then pressed.

“Oh fuck.” I collapsed against the mirror and moved my hips against him, “Don’t stop doing that.”

“I’m not going to stop.” He reached up with his free hand and pushed my top up over my breasts. While he continued to work me he leaned across my body and took a nipple into his mouth. It was almost too much. I held the back of his head in place, silently beginning him to continue everything he was doing.

“That feel good?” He increased his pace and moved over to my other nipple.

“God yes, you’re so…” I cried out, “So good at this.”

He released my nipple from his warm mouth with a smack. Slowly down my body he moved. He kissed one knee, then another. His tongue darted out and wet my inner thigh mere inches from his magical fingers. His lips were dangerously, dangerously close to the point of no return. Dark blue eyes sparkled under the bathroom’s bright lights as he looked up at me from under his lids. He whispered against my skin, “That’s not all I’m good at.”

I didn’t doubt him for a second.

I opened my eyes just in time to see him run his tongue along me. Bottom to top, slow and thorough.

“Justin…” His name came out as a breath that was lost somewhere between my lips and his. I couldn’t speak. It felt so good.

His eyes grew devious as he smirked and spread me open with his fingers. He tasted me, more intimately than any man ever had, in place few men even knew where to find, and I was a woman lost.

A sudden banging on the bathroom door shocked the shit out of me. My eyes flew open and, when my legs instinctively locked around his head, probably suffocating him, Justin grabbed my waist in a big hand, holding me still. I covered my wide open mouth and looked down at him as another bang filled the room.

“It’s locked. Ignore them.” He whispered. His lips and tongue continued to work me.

I collapsed against the mirror, took the back of his head in my hand and did just that. He was good. Very good. It was only a matter of time before I lost control, or, what little control I had left.

My nails scraped against the counter and the banging continued, but I was close. Too close to give a damn about anything but reaching the lovely, lovely peak that Justin had never failed in helping me to.

One spasm hit, “Fuck.” Then another, then another until I was sure that I’d have knocked a crack in the mirror by the time this was all over. Justin’s mouth moved expertly down there, matching my every grind against his tongue, every moan that went with it, until I was clutching the back of his head in my hands. I begged him not to stop, even though I knew he wouldn’t.

He was strong. When I came my hips left the counter, but he pulled them back down and held them there. It hit me hard, one after the other like a bomb that wouldn’t stop exploding. I threw my head back and didn’t bother stifling the cries the way I had the night before. Everyone on the other side of that door was a big boy or girl. They would understand.

Shit, they would have to understand.

Finally, I had to grab Justin’s head and beg him to stop because I couldn’t fucking take it anymore. He smiled a cocky smile that, any other time, would have earned him a punch in the arm but, after that, only seemed endlessly cute.

My chest heaved visibly, up and down, as I pulled my top down. I watched him kiss my inner thigh, then pat it, lightly. I didn’t move. I couldn’t. Justin stood tall--so tall, holding my ankles in his hands, and backed up until my legs were straight out. Then he released them. I let them hang, smiling like an idiot.

The banging had stopped.

But my heartbeat made up for it. I made no move to put my pants back on as I watched Justin gather paper towels from the dispenser. He got a whole handful, caught my eye and looked away smiling as he turned on the water.

I bit a finger between my teeth, wondering what the hell he was being so bashful for. If anyone in that room had the right to be shy right then, it was me.

But I wasn’t shy, not at all. When he came back to me with those wet towels in his hands I reached for them, but he pulled them away. I raised an eyebrow, “What? Are you going to clean me up like a baby?” My voice was hard, but I let him do it, anyway. Something about it was very intimate. Like nothing I’d ever experienced.

As Justin ran the warm towels gently over me he threw me a look, “You still want to take things slow?”

I smirked. “Fuck that.”

“Great.” He threw the towels into the basket and looked back at me.

The look in his eyes. He didn’t have to say a word and I still knew--tonight, he wasn’t going to stop me. He would never stop me, again.

He swept my clothes up from the floor and pulled me off the counter, “Get dressed.” He fingered his keys out of his pocket.

I stepped into my underwear, then my jeans, and smiled up at him as I buttoned myself up, “Yes, Mr. Timberlake.” I said, very Marilyn Monroe esque.

Once I was dressed he took my hand and all but dragged me to the door. “Four Seasons?”

I let him pull me through the door, “Yes…” He let me walk out ahead of him then wrapped his hands around my waist, pulling my body to his. We limped down the dark hallway, slowly.

I tilted my head back as he kissed my neck, “Is that a breadstick in your pocket, or…?”

“God damn it.” He smiled against my neck. “I’m Justin Timberlake. I should never be this horny.”

I laughed out loud.

So he repeated it. “Never.”

We stepped out of the dark hallway and back into the restaurant. Everything stopped. It would have been embarrassing if we both weren’t so…

The walk back out to the table was difficult. Justin must have done something to the straps of my top in the bathroom, because they wouldn’t stop slipping off my shoulders. Whenever one of the straps fell, Justin reached out and fixed it for me. The second his skin touched mine, it was like he couldn’t get enough. He’d fix the strap, then caress my shoulder. Then he’d finger the back of my neck where his hands would somehow drift down to the small of my back, around my waist and dangerously close to thong I only just put back on. Every piece of skin he touched he kissed immediately after.

Needless to say, with my top falling apart on my body and Justin’s hands all over me, getting back to the table was no easy feat. He wrapped an arm tight around me and pulled my ass into him. His erection was very present and very distracting. I stumbled. It was as if our legs had become one. Except when we tried to walk as one, it didn’t work. I’d trip over his feet and he would hold onto me, tighter. The tighter he held on the more present his dick against my ass became.

I stumbled, again. Pretty sure that one was on purpose, though.

Falling was not an option. We were in the middle of a classy restaurant and Justin was one fall away from showing every person in the place exactly why we’d been gone for so long.

He sucked on the side of my ear, then licked it, languidly, “I need to be inside of you right fucking now.”

I tried to process one single thought. I couldn’t. “There’s our… um--” His hand was creeping up my inner thigh, “Justin… the… our table. It’s-- oh!” I set my hands firmly on the table before me and stared down at our untouched salads as his hand went under my jeans and brushed against my thong. “People are looking.” It was the first coherent sentence I’d spoken the entire evening.

“I don’t care. I could honestly fuck you right here...”

A person cleared their throat, loud and obtrusive. My head shot up and, considering his hand came from inside my jeans, Justin’s must have as well.

Our waiter stood at the other end of the table. It was hard to tell whether he was amused or offended. I doubted that he was going to kick us out, considering the man standing behind me, but he wasn’t exactly throwing a parade at the show Justin and I were putting on.

The waiter raised an eyebrow, “Are you ready for your main course?”

Justin’s hand tightened around my waist and he struggled to speak, “Um, we’ll just…”

He lost his words when I pushed my ass back into him, grinding against his dick. All the while I kept a pleasant smile on the waiter. He was a young guy, he knew what was going on, but he couldn’t accuse us. To anyone else we were just a couple enjoying their closeness.

“Just the check.” Justin managed, “Now.”

“Right away, sir.” The waiter hurried off and I leaned over the table to grab my purse from the chair. I smiled at the older couple at the table next to us who were clearly convinced we were going to burn in hell. I grabbed Justin’s jacket, from his seat. “Let’s get the fuck out of here, shall we?” I went towards the door.

He held me steady and whispered in my ear, “Right jacket pocket…”

I reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled out a wad of hundreds, “Well, excuse me, DeNiro.”

“Throw it on the table.”

I threw it down after a moments hesitation.

“Now… let’s get the fuck out of here.”

He didn’t have to ask me twice.

--

I sucked the side of his neck and placed my hand over the bulge in his pants. He asked me to stop. I popped open the button of his pants. He asked me to stop. I licked his ear and reached boldly into the waistband of his briefs. He asked me to stop. I crashed my lips onto his and wrapped my fingers around his shaft. He begged me to stop. I tugged the jeans and briefs down his legs, bringing his excitement into full view and licked a slow trail from his bellybutton on down.

He hit the breaks so hard that my parted lips flew away from his dick. The back of my head hit the steering wheel so hard the horn blared to life.

“Fuck!” The truck swerved as I fell across his lap laughing hysterically. My legs were slug across the passengers side of the car and my breasts were smushed against his thigh, but I didn’t care. I was touching him, and as long as I was touching him, nothing else would ever matter more.

“Stop.” Justin’s voice was almost as hard as his cock, “Stop, before I kill somebody.”

Once I steadied myself I took him back in my hand. For a moment, holding him, I just sat there quietly and studied it. I was giving Justin Timberlake a hand job. This was Justin Timberlake’s dick. In my hand.

I looked up at him. How had I gotten here? The car swerved, but I managed to not wipe out that time.

I began a very slow up and down motion, gently brushing the head with my thumb every time I reached the top. I wet my palm with his juices and started again. Slicker. Faster. Tighter.

“Fuck, Trev, that’s good…” He made a hard left. “Don’t stop.”

“I’m not going to stop.” I whispered, blowing softly against the head. His eyes fluttered, “Open your eyes, you’re driving.” I smiled when his eyes flew open. I stroked him gently, “Keep your eyes on the road, Timberlake. Make sure your hands are at the ten and two-o’clock position…” I leaned down, licked the head and almost died when he moaned, “Please make sure all tray tables are in their upright and locked position.” I opened my mouth over his heat, then pulled back.

“Fuck!” He honked. I didn’t know who he was more angry at, me or some other driver on the street. “Fuck.” He said, again, calmer. His eyes shot down to me.

I looked up at him, slowly stroking, lips a mere breath away. “What?” I picked up the pace and licked my lips, “What?”

A sharp turn, sudden stop, “Please, Trev.”

“Please what?” The smile on my face grew. “Huh?” I leaned closer, still tugging, and kissed the head very gently, keeping it warm for just a moment, before pulling back. “You want that?”

“Yes.” His voice had grown haggard.

I opened my mouth and sucked the tip between my lips.

Another swerve. I laughed out loud.

Then a crash, a loud one, a hard one. I flew across the car and landed back on the passengers side, damn near crumbled under the glove compartment.  My hand blinding reached out, hungry to be filled, but Justin was too far away.  I tucked my fingers int a cupholder and looked up at him. He looked down at me.

His eyes were nearly climbing out of his head. "Are you okay?!"

I looked towards the crotch of his pants, dying to be back over on his side of the car, and raised my eyes to his, "Yeah."  I answered.

He watched me for a moment longer, then looked out onto the street. “I fucking hit someone.” He said, voice almost empty.  When he looked back to me, his eyes were accusing, but just below that, very subtley, amused.

"Are they dead?"

He looked back out of the windsheild, "No. She just looks... mad."

I said the first thing that came to mind, “Hide you cock!”

And he did. It was still hard.

I tried not to laugh as he jumped out with a bulge the size of Texas in his jeans.

I managed to climb off the floor of the car, finally taking into consideration that I could have very well just died, and hurried out of the car. Justin was standing in front of his monster truck inspecting the damage, which was none.

The owner of the mini-car in front of us was inspecting the damage, which was extensive. So bad, in fact, that I was surprised Justin’s dinosaur of a vehicle hadn’t climbed right over it and kept right on down the road. I imagined what we’d been in the middle of and wished that had been what happened.

The woman was in one piece, thank god, and was inspecting the back of her car.

I walked around the front of the truck, shaking my head, “Jesus, Justin. How many times do I have to tell you not to check your Sidekick for game scores while you’re driving?! What are you thinking? You could have killed this poor woman.”

Justin stared at me, no trace of amusement on his face, “Are you kidding?” He asked, blankly.

I turned to the woman, arms crossed, “I am terribly sorry, ma’am, but my boyfriend is a douche. Don’t worry, though. He’s loaded. There’s no need to get insurance involved. He’ll just buy you a brand new one of these Toyota Yaris deals. In fact!” I snapped my finger and looked at Justin, who was now shaking his head at me, “He has a BMW that he doesn’t even use!” I swatted him, “Tell her she can have the BMW.”

“Do you realize what you’re saying?” His eyes were hard, “Do you hear yourself? Do you hear what you just said?” A smile broke his face, “You just called me your boyfriend.”

I cocked my head back, eyes wide, “I did nothing of the sort--”

“I’m terribly sorry, ma’am, but my boyfriend is a douche, that’s what you said.”

“Justin?”

“Hm?”

“Now is not the time!”

We both turned back to the woman, who was no longer studying her car, but studying us, with hands on her hips.

The moment my eyes caught sight of her, I stopped breathing.

“Ma’am are you all right? Are you hur--” Justin stopped mid-sentence, “Holy shit!”

Her eyes caught his and a smile that was all to familiar and bright as the sun crossed her face, “No! Justin?! Justin Timberlake?! Boy! What the fuck did you do to your hair?”

“Oh my god!” Justin launched himself at her and she caught him in her arms, clutching him tightly.

I watched this entire exchange, still not breathing.

Justin pulled away from her, gripping her arms and her black hair, which was well past her elbows, “Louise, I can’t believe this. How have you been? How the hell are you?”

“Well--” She went to answer, but Justin stopped her.

“Wait, you’ll never believe who’s with me. You’ll never believe it. It’s Trevion.” He looked at me and I looked back at him. The pride in his eyes almost killed me. He was so, so proud of me. In a way that I’d never understand. He looked at me the way my mother, Louise Spencer, should have looked at me everyday of her life. But she hadn’t. She never had. Not even in that moment.

As she removed herself from Justin’s arms and followed his outstretched hand she didn’t look at me like a mother would look at her daughter. Not at all. Her green eyes studied my face the way a stranger studies the face of a person they’d never seen. “Trevion?” She asked, with lips just as full as mine. She looked up at Justin like a confused child, and when he didn’t respond, back to me. “Well, it’s certainly a pleasure to meet you.”

When she extended her hand to me my face shrunk with horror.

“I’m Louise Spencer.”

I wanted to run away from her. I wanted to look away. Look away from the eyes that were identical to my own but showed absolutely no recognition. Was she really going to do this? Was she going to pretend that she had no idea who I was?

“Louise…” Justin seemed just as confused as she was, “This is Trevion.” They stared at each other. He tried, again, “Trevion Spencer.” The staring continued, “Your daughter?” It was more of a question than a relaying of factual information.

It was right at that moment, that exact moment, from the look in her eyes to the slight shake of her head that I knew she wasn’t pretending, at all. She absolutely, positively, honest to god had no idea who I was.

Not even an inkling. Her green eyes filled with a cynicism that I knew all to well. She said, very carefully, “I don’t have a daughter.”

Just like that the sky went black. Every star in the sky seemed to swallow into itself and evaporate. The wind picked up so immediately and fiercely that both Justin and my mother momentarily lost their footing. My entire world shook. I knew that I was doing it, but I didn’t know how to stop it.

I vaguely heard Justin call my name, but couldn’t look at him. I couldn’t take my eyes off of my mother. I couldn’t stop hearing her say those words. I couldn’t control it.

Right then, as a monstrous crack of thunder crashed down on us and shook the ground, I knew my life would never be the same.