Title: The Chronicles of Cameron Fate Episode 1
Author C. Jones
Celebs Involved Mariah Carey
Story Codes: (MF, cons, oral, inter)
Disclaimer: This story is solely a work of fiction. It’s not meant to suggest any knowledge of the sexual practices or preferences of anyone depicted in it! Please don’t sue, I am poor and you wouldn’t get much more besides a labtop from the Flintstone days and an old pair of Nikes that I will use to run away from you with.
I don’t know how I find myself in these predicaments. This is just plain old embarrassing. I currently own one third
of one of the top up and coming record labels in the business right now. I am a good looking African American man who stands a very well put together 6-1, 234 lbs and I have the financially power to hire some of the best security on the market. Yet here I am hiding underneath my desk. My heart began to quicken as I can hear the commotion going on outside the heavy oak and steel door.
7 Months Ago: Manhattan, New York
Possibly the most important part of my job is actually not making records but rather smoozing, kissing ass and building relationships in the industry with people who do. For instance tonight was a party for music industry legend Clive Owens at the extra exclusive nightspot Sparta. I think he turned 200 or something; I wasn’t really here to deal with Clive. I was talking to up and coming R & B singer/songwriter Neyo about his upcoming album when I saw her across the room.
It must have been fate that locked eyes with each other at the same time. She was in conversation with some industry insider whose name is not really important at this moment and time. I could tell that she wasn’t really paying her associate any attention because she kept looking back in my direction. I guess Neyo turned mind reader because he said, “Man if you don’t go over there and talk to that girl I will.”
Respectfully pardoning myself I began to make my way through the crowded nightclub to her. I was a few feet away when I saw another man walk by and hug her. I guess I lost my opening; hey he who hesitates is lost. Moving laterally toward the bar, I ordered a beer. However just I reached over to pay, a smooth golden brown arm slid past me and paid the bartender for me. Swinging around I was about to thank my benefactor when I realized it was her. Dressed in black midriff exposing black tank top, tight blue jeans and black high-heeled boots was Mariah fucking Carey.
Much to my own surprise, I managed to eek out a thank you. We exchanged introductions and a few pleasantries and she invited me to ultra-exclusive VIP section downstairs. Heading to the kitchen we got in an elevator and went downstairs.
The VIP was more of a set of quiet set of secluded rooms. While the music upstairs was so loud that some places there you couldn’t hear yourself think, each room down here had it’s own stereo system that allowed whoever was in the room to control the volume.
Mariah told me that some people preferred to have their parties down here because with all the action upstairs it was easier to get privacy and get to know people down here. However few people get access to the rooms. Pulling a key card from inside her top she slid it through the slot by the door and held it open for me.
Raising an eyebrow at her, I asked “Hey isn’t that my job. I am supposed to be the gentleman.”
Giving me an almost apologetic smile she said “Don’t worry, I’ll let it slide this one time.”
Entering the room, I looked around and saw it was hardly inhabited all. Just about 10 people who are so rich I can’t even admit their existence in the room without having a 7-figure attorney near by the time I finish this sentence.
The room was mostly a clash of red, black and gold with an almost Indian motif going for it. Inside of regular couches, chairs and tables there were possibly the expensive looking loveseats I have ever seen in my life.
Closing the curtain around our love seat we sat together and began getting to know each other. For about an hour the only interruption we had was a waitress to refill our drinks and offer us food. I was about to order another beer when Mariah spoke first and ordered a bottle of Moet champagne and fruit. I never really was a big fan of someone ordering my food for but this is Mariah fucking Carey. Who am I to be difficult?
The more we talked the more it was obvious that we were attracted to each other, despite the fact that we both had very different personalities and lifestyles.
We spoke about the music business and she admitted to me that usually she doesn’t really pick her tracks and usually her A&R (a record label’s artist development department) and her assistant just chose production that they think she would like or sound good over and let her work with that. If she doesn’t like it the track gets scrapped or the producer gets fired. This was weird to me because I prefer my artists to be very hands on and be very involved with the production process. Mariah offered to have her people get in contact with me and maybe we could work on something together. I was just about to agree when her cell phone rang, she sweetly smiled at me and put it on vibrate.
We were talking about our exes when the subject of her ex husband music mogul Tommy Mattola came up. She was telling me a humorous story about the time he tried to cook for her when they first met and almost burned down her kitchen when she started to tear up.
I knew first hand that no matter how long you have been apart from someone for a period of time those feelings you thought were long dead and buried could still hurt like hell.
Sliding over close to her, I gave in to the compulsion to hold her close and let her cry against my chest. When tears decapitated she looked up at me and there was something in her eyes that made her incredibly irresistible to me. We were almost magnetically drawn to each other. We were merely inches away from each other’s lips when a waitress came over and interrupted us and alerted Mariah she had a family emergency.
Getting up, I walked her to the black SUV that her hulking man mountain bodyguard was waiting by. She promised to call me later tonight when everything calmed down and kissed me on the cheek and climbed into the truck.
As the truck sped off into the night, I realized I fucked up because the whole time we were together we never exchanged phone numbers or email addresses. While it would not be difficult to get my information from her record label, I doubted she would go to any extra lengths to get into contact with me.
Climbing into my black Navigator truck, I headed to the Queens,New York studio that my labels owns. One of my artists an aspiring R &B singer 29-year-old Ava Prince was working on her album during the graveyard shift. Say what you want about her pop R&B style, ever since that girl signed on the dotted line she took any and every opportunity to get in the studio and work.
Sometimes I could check the log book to see who was here and see that she showed up to work on her album from midnight in the morning to dawn, then she would go home, get her daughter ready for school, sleep, take care of her child, perform at a club and then head back to the studio later that same night. Her work ethic seemed to be contagious because I was too wired to go home and sleep, so I went to the office of the studio and began to fine tune my marketing strategy with Ava’s album to be release during the same time a few of her guest appearances on other people’s albums would hit the mainstream market.
I was just headed home when my personal cell phone rang. Looking at the clock I wondered who the heck would call me at 4 in the morning on a Saturday. Answering the phone, I greeted with a voice that sold 10s of millions of albums worldwide that simply said, “Hi is this Cameron Fate’s phone?”
At first I really wanted to have fun and mess with her and start speaking Spanish to see if I could convince her that this was the wrong number but instead I said, “this is he.”
“Hi, this Mariah. I know I had to cut out kind of early on you and then I remembered I never gave you my number so this is my personal phone number that I only give to my friends. You can reach me at this number at any time during the day.”
“Cool, I’ll save it to my phone. Hey how did you get this number?”
” Easy, I’m Mariah Carey, I can find out what brand of toothpaste you use without even asking you. By the way I spoke to my A&R, Joan, and she worked it out with your assistant that we could work together. So how about next Friday around 5, I come down to the studio and you and me make some beautiful music together.” The last time I saw Mariah was about 1 am at the club and it’s 4: 15 right now, where did she find all the time to cut through the label red tape and negotiate fees. “Sure, I got video shoot Friday morning but I have a studio build into the house I am renting so you can just come over,” I replied right before telling my address. That Friday, I waited over 2 hours before she showed up. I was annoyed because in this business downtime costs money. I have 5 artists on my label that with album to prep and strategize for and anytime I am not focused on their success is potentially costing me success. The only positive of the situation is it gave my cousin ghostwriter/ rapper Elix more time to come up with lyrics. I was just about to send him home when my maid, Leah let Mariah in.
Wearing a white top and very short jean shorts that left her long legs on mouth-watering display, I forgave her immediately and between Mariah, her assistant Julie, Elix and I we all got to work right away. I played the tracks for us while we all pitched in suggestions to make it better.
Over the course of 4 hours we managed to crank out 3 songs that were workable for her next album, 2 hooks that would work on one of my artists albums and a handful of other material that in all honesty were not that great but with use of “studio magic” were workable.
It was after midnight when Mariah sent her assistant home and Elix left. I was about give Mariah a ride home when she insisted she wanted to keep working. Considering that Leah had already retired for the evening, I went to the kitchen and made a few sandwiches while we talked about everything. When I asked how she managed to get past all the red tape the industry makes you go through to set up this session she gave me this sexy predatory grin and said “I can do that. I am Mariah fucking Carey.” Which made us both laugh like school kids.
Heading back studio, Mariah entered the booth while I manned the control board. Staring at me she began to sing the Madonna song Fever over a slow sexy track I planned to use on Ava’s album. It was very different than the majority of her whole career but the sound of it was so sexy that between the low room lights and her voice, the whole thing was definitely a turn on.
When she was done I put the song and the rest of her new material on loop and sat on the couch on the studio and listened. Mariah came out of the booth and almost curled up next to me on the couch. I don’t know at what point but some point during Fever, I guess we gave into the attraction and began kissing.
Her kiss was a lot different that I expected. In watching her public exploits I guess I expected something more passive and sensually smooth. Instead I got a more aggressive kissing that seemed that have this almost feeling of her trying establish control. It was like she was asserting herself toward me, setting the table so to speak.
When we broke the kiss, she looked into my eyes with an almost predatory look and straddled me on the couch. I tried to convince her to go upstairs to my nice soft big bed, but she was no intention of stopping as she whipped her tank top off and unhooked her bra. Exposing me to her twins was enough to shut me up, but further silence me she pushed them right into my face almost smothering me. I latched onto her left nipple and began to suck for all I almost worth making her moan softly while she ran her fingers through my short black hair.
Eventually she pried me off those fantastic breasts and yanked my shirt over my head. I was not ripped like Usher but I work out regularly to be considered buff. Giving me that predator glare she slid down me body leaving a trail of kisses before eventually standing up and removing her shorts and shoes. I stood up to remove my pants but I guess I was taking to long as she began to yank them and my boxer-briefs down. I barely got them off my ankles when she shoved me back down on the couch and climbed on top of me again. I smiled and said “What? No foreplay” that got me a look and her telling me “Shut up and fuck me.”
I had no time to retort before she guided my very hard dick into her already dripping wet pussy. Slowly she began to rock her hips riding my cock, with eyes squinted shut and muttering unintelligibly. Eventually she picked up a rhythm that she liked.
With her eyes still closed she said to me “Get ready.” I was about to ask get ready for what before she began to pick up speed. Before too long she was riding me harder and faster than any hip-hop groupie or any woman ever had before in my life. Who knew the woman who began her career, as a sweet innocent songbird would be an absolute wild woman in the sack?
She road me like a roller coaster. I tried to pull her closer to me but she grabbed a hold of my hands and pulled them back down without breaking her rhythm. I knew in this position I would not last long.
Aggressively I rolled her over onto her back and began to ram my cock into her hard aggressive strokes. She looked at me with anger in her eyes as she yelled “COME ON MOTHERFUCKER. FUCK ME MOTHERFUCKER.” She also through in a few words of encouragement like “GIVE ME THAT DICK MOTHERFUCKER. OH GOD.”
At that point I began to savagely fuck harder and harder and then right when she came she let out of high pitched wail that would match that high note on any of her albums. I swear my ears rang for days afterwards but at that time she driven me to the point that I did not want her to be able to walk away from her tomorrow without a noticeable limp. She came two more times with a similar wail before I moaned out “I’m about to come.”
Looking me in the eye, she somehow managed to push me off of her before she slid down my body and slid my dick into her mouth. Sucking on the tip before sliding down to deep-throat me down those Grammy Award winning pipes.
Slowly sliding my man-meat back up slowly she looked me in the eye while sliding back down and repeating the same trick two more times before sliding my dick between her magnificent breasts and began to titfuck me. I could not last anymore as my cock exploded in her cleavage.
My head was spinning as she used my discarded shirt to wipe off my spunk but not before she looked me in the eye and licked a generous amount of it off her finger. I was coming to grips that I just fucked Mariah fucking Carey in my studio while she was freshening up in the studio bathroom. Re-entering the room naked willing swinging her hips she crawled back over to my side and said “Don’t worry tomorrow I will pick up a new couch for the studio.” To be honest I barely noticed the couch had evidence of our liaison all over it. I tried to tell her not to worry about it when she got up and picked up her clothes and headed to staircase.
I asked her where she was going and she told me she was going upstairs to my bedroom, then I watched her swing her hips and began to follow her magnificent ass up the staircase. We barely made it into the bedroom before we were back at it again this time with her riding me reverse cowboy. I enjoyed the view of her fantastic ass bouncing up and down on my cock while we fucked the night away.
I swear by the next morning we had tried so many positions that I was physically drained and practically unable to move. Both of us moved so sore that one would think we were in car accident. Who knew that this was just the start of my roller coaster ride of a year.