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Jess Moore lay on his back atop the silk sheets of his hotel room bed and stared at the ceiling. He was naked and covered in sweat, which caused his athletic body to glow in the flickering light from the television. The room smelled of sex.

He heard the toilet flush and breathed a heavy sigh as he waited for his partner to return. Ricki Strickland stepped out into the bedroom and smiled at him. The blonde bombshell's dark blonde hair was sweaty and matted against her shoulders. She was completely naked. Nervously she seemed to try to cover her small but purky boobs and the unkempt mess of pubic hair between her legs, even after they'd just finished having sex.

Jess watched her as she crossed them room, walking a little funny, and mused about the fact that he was being treated to a sight that half the men in this country would have given their left nut to see. "Ricki" was a quickly rising pop sensation with millions of fans and was widely considered one of the hottest young singers in the music industry. She was popular enough to have more than one "tribute" site dedicated to allowing fans to jerk off on her pictures.

"Hey baby," she whispered as she slid into bed and cuddled up next to him.

He wondered how many videos and pics her fans would post of they could see her now, and he felt his recently spent cock start to stir.

Ricki was an 18 year old sex symbol, and he'd had to pop a magical little blue pill just to get it up long enough to fuck her in the ass. The whole time he'd been imagining she was this young cowboy in tight Wranglers he'd seen in the front row of his show earlier tonight. The same guy who'd had a huge bulge in the front of his jeans...and a hot young brunette on his arm.

Their relationship had been created as a farce to help promote both of their careers, a plan cooked up by their managers. It had actually worked, making the two of them the talk of the celebrity gossip shows. They'd even come to be real life best friends. But Ricki had quickly started showing real interest in him...interest that he didn't return.

He'd wanted to end things, but his manager insisted the optics were bad. Before they'd gotten together, rumors had started circling about Jess' sexuality. A guy from his hometown who he'd secretly been fucking in high school had started spreading stories about their relationship. Nobody else had known about their encounters, so there was no proof, but the rumors were still out there.

Country music had come a long way since the 1970s when producers had tried to hide the fact that Charlie Pride was a black man, but it still wasn't ready for a highly successful gay country singer. Several artists had tried, and their careers had crashed and burned.

Ricki was just the cover he needed to stay relevant. At least she had a tight and until recently virgin ass.

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