You want to go home. You’ve spent all day in the studio, waiting for your boyfriend to finish working and you’re bored. You were supposed to be going to lunch but he got a desperate call from Tim saying he needed him. You pouted in the passenger seat for three blocks and then bitched about how hungry you were for the next four until he pulled into a McDonalds and spent a wopping five bucks on you. Not that you’re in this relationship for his money…no if you’re in it for anything its for the sex, which you are reminded of once he steps into the recording booth and opens those perfect lips of his. His voice sets you on fire, whether it’s singing or hell even just talking, nothing gets you off more than hearing him whispering things to you when he’s deep inside you.

Unfortunately when he’s working, sex is the farthest thing from his mind, ironically, considering most of his career revolves around sex, singing about it, talking about it, practically doing it on the stage with his dancers…not that you’re jealous or anything.

No you just sit back and read your Cosmo, waiting. Waiting…and waiting…and waiting. You’ve gotten to the point where you’re reading all of the ads by the time he’s finally finished.

“That only took forever,” you muse as you make your way to the parking lot.

“It was only-” he pauses to look down at his watch and his eyes widen. “Damn four hours!”

“Yeah,” you say as you watch him scratch his bandana covered head and tap the face of his watch.

“That can’t be right,” he says, pulling his aviator sunglasses out of his pocket and sliding them onto his face.

“Oh trust me,” you say with a sigh as you approach his Mercedes. “It was all of four hours and just for torturing me all afternoon, I’m driving.” You snatch the keys from his hands and he sighs as you walk around the car.

“You like watching me work,” he grins, fingers gripping the handle of the passenger side door, waiting for you to unlock it. “It makes you all hot and bothered.”

“I never should have told you that,” you scowl and he laughs as he folds his lanky frame into the front seat.

You slide in behind the wheel and toss your magazine into his lap. He picks it up and surveys the cover before shrugging and beginning to flip through it.

“Hey I’m in here,” he says and you nod as you pull out of the parking lot. “God I have a huge nose.”

“I like your nose,” you say.

“Yeah when it’s pressed against your cl-”

“Justin Randall Timberlake!” you exclaim, nearly slamming on the breaks as you come to a red light and he laughs.

“I’m just sayin’…”

The rest of the ride back to his place is relatively silent, aside from a few musings about how women’s magazines are just guides on how to control men and asking why you’ve never sexed up his A.M. shower. You’re pulling through his gates when he asks:

“Have you ever had one of these blended orgasms?”

You look over and he tilts the magazine so you can see the article as you pull the car into the garage.

“No why?” you ask as you get out and make your way into the house.

“You want one?” he asks as you enter the kitchen and you turn to find him grinning at you from the doorway.

You chuckle softly. “Is that an offer or more of a request?” you ask raising an eyebrow at him.

“More of a promise really,” he muses, pulling his shades from his eyes as he saunters toward you. “Whadda ya say?”

“Whatever you want babe,” you smile.

He grins, but you barely have time to bask in it before you’re spinning through the air, squealing from the sudden change in position, and you find yourself thrown over his shoulder as he makes his way up the stairs. You giggle as he makes his way to the bedroom and drops you rather unceremoniously onto the middle of his oversized bed.

“Okay, lets see,” he says, looking down into the magazine again and you shake your head, leaning back on your elbows, your feet dangling a few inches above the floor. “Blah blah blah…‘blended orgasm is a combination of clitoral and g-spot orgasms…blah blah blah… ‘longer deeper experience’…blah blah…Oh you know what this says?”

“What?” you ask, biting your lip, watching as he looks up at you, eyes mischievous.

“This says you’re supposed to do it on your own first,” he grins at you and you laugh.

“It does not,” you say snatching the magazine from him and scanning the pages.

“Oh yes it does,” he replies, bouncing on the balls of his feet and pointing. “Right there under ‘How to Achieve One on Your Very Own’”

“It says it’s a good idea to try it first by yourself and then teach your idiot boyfriend to do it-”

He snatches the magazine back and says: “It does not say ‘idiot boyfriend.’ Take your clothes off,” he adds, eyes moving rapidly over the pages.

“Oh this is romantic,” you deadpan as you pull your shirt over your head, and stand to shimmy out of your pants and underwear.

He gives you a thorough once over before looking back to the magazine. “It says to lie on your back.”

You comply, pushing yourself to the middle of the bed, propping yourself up on your elbows to watch him.

“I think I can do this,” he says, tossing the magazine onto the bed next to you.

He kneels at the end of the bed and grabs your ankle, pulling you closer and you giggle. You smile as he parts your legs and gives you a wink as he presses the pad of his thumb against your clit, splaying his four fingers across your belly. Your eyes slide shut as he thumbs you in slow, steady circles, tiny earthquakes trembling in the pit of your stomach.

“Tell me when you’re close,” he whispers huskily and your thigh twitches at the sound of his voice. “You’re close now aren’t you?” You can hear the smile in his voice.

“Shut up,” you groan and he takes his hand away. “Hey!”

“It says I’m supposed to stop and start on your g-spot,” he says defensively and you scowl.

“It does not you fucking tease,” you spat and reach for the magazine, scanning the article.

“See,” he says when you drop it and pout. “Now hold still.”

You feel one finger probe your entrance and then slide in slowly. Your head falls back, waiting for him to add another finger but he doesn’t. In fact he doesn’t even penetrate you completely. You feel him turn his hand and then curve his finger slightly.

“How’s that?” he asks and you screw up your face a little.

“Kinda hurts,” you mutter and he stops immediately.

“What does it say?” he asks and you roll your eyes reaching for the magazine.

“‘Insert one finger palm-up about an inch or two into your vagina-’”

"Like this?" he asks, finger probing.

"Hmmm, it says to look for the spongy...oh"

"Found it!"

He grins pressing harder and your head falls back as a deep tremor rumbles through your body. A thin sheen of sweat has broken out over your skin as he continues to rub softly inside you.

“Now I believe I’m supposed to do this,” his voice is soft and you moan a little at the sound.

His thumb presses your clit again and waves of pleasure roll lazily through your body. You’re panting now, the pressure in your belly rising, tiny sparks shooting to the top of your head and the tips of your toes.

“Justin,” you sigh, as you feel his lips press against your inner thigh, his thumb rubbing in soft circles.

“Hmmm, I’m thinking this might be better.”

His thumb moves and your whine of protest melds into a moan as his lips close over your clit. He curves his fingers one more time and the tension in your stomach explodes through your veins, a deep pleasure like nothing you’ve ever felt before wringing your muscles, causing you to arch off the bed.

Panting you let your body relax and when you finally open your eyes, you see he’s taken off his sweatshirt and is consulting the magazine again, holding it with one hand as he struggles to push his pants and boxers down his legs with the other.

“I think that since we got it on the first try, we can go to a more advanced position.” He smiles devilishly. “Get over here and bend over.”

You don’t even comment, just do as he says, your body weak and slow, still vibrating with pleasure. You feel him slide in, and your muscles clamp down on him. You could come again almost instantly but his fingers digging into your hips tell you not to. You know him. Know how he wants you to come and know that this is not it…not now at least.

“Can you feel it?” he asks, his voice deep with want. You moan in response, pressing back against him, urging him to move.

He pulls back slightly and thrusts back in, testing you, feeling you, enjoying how tight you are around him.

“Okay then,” he sighs after a few thrusts and you feel him lay the magazine across your back. You roll your eyes.

“Justin just get rid of that damn thing and fuck me!” you exclaim and feel him peel the pages off of you, hear the clatter of pages flapping as he hurls it into the depths of the room.

Both of his hands find your hips as he pulls you back against him. He bends over you, lips pressing into your spine and you feel his dick hitting that spot his fingers had pressed against. You arch your back, feeling him slide deeper and he grunts, his cheek pressing against your back, breath fanning across your dampened skin.

“Close baby?” he asks and it takes you a moment to respond. You open your mouth and nothing but a choking sound of pleasure is emitted. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

His hand skims down your hip and in between your legs, pinching your clit. You scream so loud you’re surprised you don’t shatter the windows. The orgasm you had moments before was just a wave compared to the tsunami ripping through your body. Your pussy clamps around him for what seems like forever, your body being coiled and wrung out repeatedly, lightening shooting up and down your spine. You barely feel him come, his teeth digging into your shoulder before he collapses against you.

His hips twitch as the occasional after spasm of your pussy clamps his overly sensitive flesh. You can feel his heart racing against your spine, his shaky breath puffing against your skin, cooling your heated flesh.

“Well that was interesting,” he pants and you can’t help but laugh. “Do they always have stuff like that in women’s magazines?”

“Pretty much,” you sigh.

“I just have one question for you then?” he pauses, and you look over your shoulder at him. “When does the next Cosmo come out?”