Miss Montana

Miss Montana
1/6

Miley was fall-over-herself drunk when she stumbled into the Tipton at midnight. It wasn't hard for a fifteen year old to get alcohol- if that fifteen year old was Hannah Montana. She adjusted her wig and tried to look normal, concentrating very hard on walking through the lobby. Thankfully, it was mostly deserted. Only a bellhop and a desk clerk were loitering about, and neither looked up as she entered the elevator and punched what she thought was the correct floor number. She hung tipsily by the wall as the elevator went up.

She stumbled out into the hall when the elevator doors dinged and opened, and was very surprised to find herself tumbling over a smaller, softer body. She squeezed her eyes shut as the world spun angrily for a moment.

“Oof!”

She groaned as she realized she was on the floor and someone was pinned – squirming – beneath her.

“..Um... Hannah?” A muffled voice inquired from somewhere below her. She recognized the voice after a second or two of pondering. One of the blond twins. Zack or Cody. She pushed herself up on her forearms and looked down at the tuft of blond hair and the pair of blue eyes peering at her from beneath her breasts. She felt a little triumphant at recognizing him as Zack right away. Something about his eyes just screamed amusement.

The effort of holding herself up proved too much and she collapsed to the sound of another muffled “Oof!”

She sighed. It was going to be a long night.

“Sorry, Zack. I just need a minute, here.” The pop star slurred apologetically.

“That's okay!” Zack assured quickly. Who was he to disagree with a beautiful girl using him as a bed? A beautiful famous girl at that. He shifted a little under her weight and tried to ignore that her breasts were pushed into his chin and her thigh had made its way between his legs. I knew sneaking out would be worth it! He could hardly wait to rub this encounter in Cody's face when he got back.

He waited patiently for a minute. And then a minute stretched into two, and then five. He shifted uncomfortably when he realized her breathing had evened out; she'd fallen asleep on top of him. He thought about rolling her off of him, but in all honesty, he was enraptured by the feel of her breasts pressed into him. He settled for trying to wake her gently.

“Um... Hannah? Hey, wake up. Hannah?”

“Don' call me Hannah...” She murmured sleepily, shifting her leg back and forth. Zack squeaked, startled, when her thigh brushed against the crotch of his pants.

No, not now, Zack, this is no time for hormones! Hold it in, man, hold it in! It was no use, though. His member began to stiffen, rowing harder and harder with each unintentional brush of her leg.

“U-u-um, Ha-Hanna- I m-mean... M-Miss Montana... Could you wake up, please?” She brought her leg up, not hard, but firmly; it pressed against his erection and made his heart flutter rapidly in his chest. Oh, God, if she wakes up now she's bound to feel that!

It was just his luck that she chose that minute to shift back into awareness.

Miley opened her eyes and tried to remember where she was. The alcohol still fogged her mind. The only things she was immediately aware of were the dim lighting above her, something squirming underneath her, and something hard pressing into her thigh. She pushed herself up on her forearms (why did that feel familiar?) and looked down.

“...Cody?”

He was flushed and had a panicked look about him. “Z-Zack, actually. D-do you mind...? Could you, um...?”

She ignored his flustering half-begging and rolled her thigh, curious about what was pressing into it. Zack gasped sharply, and realization struck her. “Izzat a flashlight, or are you just happy to see me?” Miley asked, then laughed as though it was the funniest thing in the world.

“Er...” Zack began, unsure of where to go from there.

Miley looked down at his sweet blue eyes and his mop of blond hair. He smelled like a boy; not the kind of ocean-surfer smell that she had grown accustomed to, but that natural smell she'd known in Tennessee. It made her throb.

She sat up slowly. He moved as though he was going to get up, so she pushed him pack down. “Stay there,” she commanded.

Zack wasn't sure what to do, so he obeyed, confused and embarrassed by his current state. Miley took in the sight of him; a fourteen year old boy in tented Transformers pajama pants. She spent a moment pondering what he'd look like in a year, two even. A charmer, probably. Handsome. For now, though, he had the cute look down pat. Just enough chubby to make him squeezable without making him look fat. Just enough of a terrified look on his face to make her hungry.

Experimentally, she pushed his legs apart. “Hey- What are you-” She silenced his protests by running a palm up his thigh. He trembled, which excited her. Grabbing the hems of his pants, she pulled, making him squeak and tremble harder as his cock was exposed.

“No underwear?” She asked, a little disappointed. She'd wanted the whole picture, whitey-tighteys and everything.

“L-laundry day,” he offered, pitifully.

She nodded, then went back to examining him. His member wasn't as big as she'd thought it would be. It barely reached his belly button, laying as it was on his stomach. Without any further pretenses, she reached out and wrapped her fingers around it. Zack balled his fists up and pushed them into his mouth, moaning. She stroked the hairless underside, and brought her thumb up to tough the tiny opening at the head.

Zack gasped; no one but himself had ever touched down there. It was too much for him, he couldn't hold it back. He groaned in humiliation as he buck his hips and came in little spurts all over his t-shirt. He covered his red face and sighed. You really blew it, Zack.

Miley smiled. That was beyond adorable. She reached out and drew Zack's hands away from his face, leaning over him and kissing his nose. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

Zack lay there, red faced, as the girl stood, straightened herself out, and went back to the elevator.

He stayed like that for a few minutes, thinking simply, No one's going to believe this.

tbc