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Katy Perry’s Sexual Healing Sex Story

I came down to the hotel lobby 15 minutes before I was to be picked up. I could have driven to the New Years party, but I wasn’t chosen as the designated driver in my group. So I would longue here until my friends arrived, then come back/stumble back after midnight without endangering my rental car.

But I had time to kill before they got here. So one warm up drink wouldn’t hurt.

I got to the hotel bar and made my order, then checked my phone for any text updates from my friends. When I didn’t see any, I put it down — then saw in the corner of my eye that someone else was checking their phone three seats away.

“Waiting for someone too?” I asked before even making out who or what was there.

If I had had time to guess, I might have predicted it was a woman. I wouldn’t have guessed a celebrity, though.

And I certainly wouldn’t have guessed Katy Perry.

Or Katy Perry in a light blue dress to impress. One that highlighted a few….impressive things about her.

But there it all was anyway. And I had to grip the bar to avoid falling off my chair when I saw it.

A second was all it took to realize that wasn’t the smoothest move. So I sat up straight again, tried to laugh it off and said, “Sorry, my mistake.”

I figured she had bigger things to do than answer my questions. Besides, we were the only two people at this bar, since the hotel’s own New Year’s festivities hadn’t started yet. She obviously came here for some quiet before her more extravagant New Years’ night started, so she probably didn’t need me bothering her/gawking.

Yet she still answered, “No, you got it right. Just waiting around too.”

So celebs are just like us. That sounded good in my brain. But when I saw Katy chuckle, I wondered if I only said it in my brain. It seemed I didn’t.

But my slip up led to her coming over and sitting in the empty seat next to me. Which let me see all of her blue dress and the figure it clung to. And since her hair was regular brunette — her best color — instead of one of her other colors, there was less to distract me. All in all, it could have been worse.

There was no need to introduce herself, since I made it clear that I knew who she was. So I just introduced myself, telling her that friends would be picking me up soon. For Katy’s part, she was waiting for her husband, Russell Brand.

Despite all the tabloid rumors, it appeared they were actually still married. That thought I wisely kept in my brain. Fortunately, my drink arrived to help me push it back further.

Katy received her drink a moment later, which kept me from downing mine right away. Taking a shot, I took my shot up and raised it, to which Katy raised hers as well. Now that I actually had to think of a toast, I improved, “To….to a New Year that’s worth the wait.”

“Here’s hoping,” Katy toasted. I would have expected her to say another here, but I shrugged it off. I clinked my glass with hers, and we drank away in comfortable silence and small talk. Yet the comfortable silence got interrupted by a ringtone.

“Is that your ride?” Katy asked, once I recognized the tone was mine. I got my phone and read that my friends were driving up to the hotel soon. Of course by now, they seemed more like intruders.

Yet even if I could tell them to go, Katy and her occasionally funny husband wouldn’t have room for me on their big night. Therefore, I’d have to be the fifth wheel with my friends after all, instead of a third wheel with a gorgeous singer and a crude comedian.

But as a compromise, I got up and asked Katy, “Do you mind if I….get some proof you were here? I promise they’re not talented enough to hack my phone. And this wouldn’t be TMZ worthy anyway.”

“If you put it that way,” Katy commented, then got up as I raised my phone to take our picture. She stood next to me, though I wasn’t sure if I should get any closer. But with little time to waste, I carefully put my arm around her, ignored that I was touching her bare shoulder, and concentrated on angling my phone the right way.

When I got it right, I snapped the picture, then got myself to break from Katy. I really had to go by now, so I thanked her and concluded, “Good luck. Happy New Year,” with nothing better to say.

“You too,” she replied with a smile anyway. I filed that smile away for memory, then left the hotel. When the coast was clear, I actually checked my phone, seeing that it got both of us — and her cleavage — in the same frame after all.

Still, when I got outside to my friends’ car, I didn’t brag about my encounter right away. In fact, I didn’t talk about it the whole night.

I snuck a peek at the photo a few times when no one was looking, but I put it away when they could see. I supposed I wanted to keep it private for me — or something that wouldn’t get me bombarded with snide comments, or questions on whether I looked down her dress.

In any case, I got back to the hotel an hour after the ball dropped. Though I wasn’t the designated driver, I was more sober than he was. Perhaps thinking about what happened made me too distracted to get drunk.

I was certainly more sober than the people I passed in the hotel bar. I almost thought I saw a woman drinking in Katy’s old seat, but I didn’t look closer. I just headed to the elevator, anxious to rest and maybe think harder about my encounter in private — since I wasn’t too drunk to do that.

Or maybe I was. Maybe that’s why I saw someone run into the elevator before it closed. Maybe that’s why it looked like Katy. A tipsier looking Katy than I saw earlier.

“What are you….” I asked for starters. I looked around and saw I was really alone with her, then asked, “Where’s your husband?”

“In Hell! I’d send him there myself if he wasn’t….” Katy said with a semi-slur. This was suddenly getting dicey.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said without any real idea what was going on. “Um, what floor are you on?” I offered.

“I got it,” Katy insisted, then pressed the number 9, though she almost hit 6 first. Somehow, this made her laugh. “6…9….” She chuckled, “Not anymore! Not with him!”

“I’m…sorry to hear that,” I settled on saying again.

“What about you?” she said. “You getting that with anyone?” That left me much more unsettled.

“Uh….” I trailed off, then just said “No” in a truthful but joking matter, still thinking this was a drunk joke. I couldn’t afford to think it was anything else.

“Good. Makes it better,” Katy stated, just as we reached her floor. I grit my teeth, waiting for her to leave so I could get back to my floor and….think about a few things by myself. Instead, she took my wrist and led me out of the elevator, showing a pretty good grip for someone her size.

Imagine what that grip….no, probably wasn’t best to do that now. Was it?

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