Britney Speared - Sex Stories

Britney Speared

Meeting a world famous celebrity is something that most of us will never experience. Having what can only be described as intimate relations with one is just a dream that most of us have had at some point. Whether it's Madonna or Maradona, we have all fantasised about giving a celebrity a good seeing to. However, for most of us it remains just that - a fantasy. Unless, like me - and my name's Steve, by the way - you are one of the fortunate few lucky enough to live out your fantasy… * * * * * Joining the army wasn't always my main ambition as a c***d. Like most young boys, when I was a k** I always wanted to be a professional footballer, pop star or Hollywood actor. The only problems I encountered were the fact that I'm no good at football, can't sing to save my life and have about as much chance of becoming an actor as I have of getting pregnant - zilch! So eventually I decided on a career in the armed f***es. Let's face it, travelling around the world, legally being able to carry a weapon (and fire it) and being paid for the privilege can't be bad, can it? Anyway, to cut a long story short (ooh, Jesus, flashback to the 80s and Spandau Ballet!) I joined up and chose to join the Royal Military Police regiment. My b*****r used to be in the RMP and had told me many great stories about his time with them, although before I joined I figured that they were just a figment of his imagination - how wrong I was! It all started on a fairly normal day. There I was, stood on the parade ...

... ground with my sergeant shouting obscenities into my ear hole and calling me a nancy boy! A great bloke, my sergeant! Anyway, as the day went on I got assigned to guard duty. Fucking great, I thought. I get to spend all day stood at the gate to our barracks in the fucking pouring rain! Just what I joined up for! And then, just when I thought my day couldn't get any worse, up popped my sergeant again. "I've got some good news for you, Lance Corporal," he said, handing me a piece of paper. "You're being reassigned." Great! Just when I was beginning to enjoy standing there in the freezing cold, getting completely soaked! "Oh right," I said, taking the piece of paper. "You're a lucky man," he said, with a somewhat envious look. "You're being transferred to the protection division." He then set about explaining what was happening. I was basically going to be playing babysitter to some up themselves celebrity. They'd apparently been receiving death threats and their agent was taking them seriously. Rather than hiring some minders of their own, they'd decided, under the circumstances, it would better to get some official help - and who better than the RMP? I immediately had visions of some over the hill actor or sports star, who'd planned the whole thing himself just to get a bit of publicity to kick-start his flagging career. As yet, no one had told me whom it was I'd be protecting. I got my gear together and was then briefed on professional etiquette whilst protecting a so-called ...