Celebrity Crush, Part 2

by HardJulia

The following days were strange. At times I thought the whole thing had been a dream, although I still had the fading scent of Diana on my unwashed right hand, or maybe that was just my imagination. One morning, unthinking, I washed both hands as normal. I could have kicked myself; now I had nothing to remind me of what had happened in the ladies' room.

My Diana scrapbook, and Dad's naughty videos, saw a lot of use during that time. Now I also had the delicious memory of what her genitals felt like, outside and inside. I'll leave you to guess which fingers I used to satisfy myself on those occasions.

One morning at the breakfast table my Dad excitedly grabbed a letter from his usual huge pile of mail.

"Omigod it's from Kensington Palace!" he exclaimed. I had no idea why this was so significant.

He tore open the envelope and looked at the card inside. Then he looked at the front of the envelope more closely.

"Sorry it's for you," he said. He was obviously dissappointed.

I took the card from him. The embossed copperplate printing at the top told me right away it was from Diana, Princess of Wales. I held the card with both my trembling hands

and tried to absorb the information on it. It was an invitation to take tea with the Princess at 4:00 p.m. the following day at her Kensington Palace apartments.

"Can we go?" I asked my Dad. Tomorrow was a school day.

"The invitation's for you, not me," he said. "There's a note here explaining how you'll be picked up and how you'll be well looked after. It says I don't need to worry.

There'll be a car coming to the school gates at 3:00."

We were silent for a while, both thinking hard. My Dad was trying to figure out how he could get me to promote his latest sponsorship ideas over tea. I was thinking about the prospect of having sex with a beautiful princess.

"I'll have to miss gymnastics," I said.

"That'll be OK, I'll write a note." He thought for a while, "You must have made a big impression on her," he said.

I grabbed the invitation and went to get ready for school.

The timing of my gymnastics class was fortuitous. I would change into my leotard as usual, because I thought it looked pretty sexy. I'd put a white pleated skirt over the top before setting off for my date with Diana. At least I wouldn't be in the school uniform I hated. I only found out later that Diana would have loved me to wear it, but that's another story.

The next day I walked out of the school gates at 3:00 to find a vintage Rolls-Royce waiting. The elderly chauffeur saw me coming and opened the rear door.

"Her 'ighness has left some orange juice for you in the back," he said cheerfully. "It's a warm day."

I made myself comfortable on the soft leather seating as the car pulled away. The chauffeur reminded me to fasten my seatbelt over the intercom. There was a glass screen between us.

I investigated the coolbox on the back seat. There were three small bottles of juice. I opened one and tasted it. It was cool and delicious but it wasn't just orange juice, it was Bucks Fizz! The first one didn't last long (or the second).

Forty minutes later we pulled into the grounds of Kensington Palace. It was very grand. Despite the effect of the champagne in the juice I started to get nervous. The car proceeded to a side of the huge building.

"She lives in the apartments around this side," the old boy explained. "You take a lift to the third floor."

He took me to the lift entrance and pressed the button for 'up'. The doors opened. "In you go, girl," he chuckled. "You're on your own now."

I walked in and he reached inside to press button 3. He ducked out as the doors closed. When they opened again, Diana was standing there.

I stood motionless, gawping. She looked amazing as always but the effect was particularly enhanced by the fact that she was completely naked, apart from a single string of pearls around her lovely long neck and a pair of very expensive-looking red high-heeled shoes.

I knew it was impolite of me, especially when meeting a Princess for only the second time, but I couldn't take my eyes off her pussy. The fleshiness of the area I had touched a few days before was emphasised by the paleness where a skimpy bikini bottom had protected it from the sun. The rest of her, including her breasts, was beautifully tanned.

The doors of the lift started to close and I had to leap out. I tripped on the deep-pile carpet and fell into her, grabbing her by the hips to stop mysef falling. Despite my consternation at making such an ungainly entrance I remember how her skin felt under my hands as I held her in my arms that first time.

"Careful," she said, laughing. "I have to get you back to your Dad in one piece."

She knelt down so that her face was level with mine. I still had my arms around her and that silky skin moved under my hands as she did so.

"I hope you don't mind my informal attire," she said. "I like to be comfortable when I'm at home. And it's very warm today."

I just nodded and looked into her big blue eyes. I didn't mind at all. Those eyes came closer and she kissed me briefly on the lips.

"Maybe you'd like to get comfortable too?" she asked. Without waiting for my answer she put both hands under my white wrap-around skirt. I realised she was trying to take my panties down, but my leotard was a one-piece. I helped out by unfastening the skirt and letting it fall. I turned around.

"There's a zip down the back," were my first words to her on that occasion. Her fingers quickly found the fastening and she unzipped me in one movement. The leotard also fell to the floor and I was as naked as she was, apart from my socks and sneakers.

I started to turn to face her but she held me by the shoulders. I could only surmise that she was taking a good look at my bum. Then she turned me around and took in the front view, looking long and hard, until I started to feel a little embarrassed. Was there something wrong with me?

"What a pretty little girl you are," she said at last. "I'm so glad you could come." She looked me up and down again. Mostly down this time.

"We're going to have so much fun," she said softly. There was an odd look on her face. In those days I didn't recognise desire in a woman's expression, but it started to dawn on me that I really was about to have sex, of some sort, with one of the most beautiful women in the world.

Still kneeling beside me, Diana gazed into my eyes for a few moments, then took both my hands and pressed them into her breasts. My knees seemed to turn to jelly but I just about managed to stay standing.

"Squeeze them, Julie" she said. I did what I was told. Her eyes half-closed as I gripped her flesh quite hard. It obviously gave her great pleasure.

After a while she stood up, put her hands under my armpits and lifted me bodily off the floor. She was clearly very fit and strong and it seemed a very easy task for her. Holding me to her chest with one arm, she got the other arm under my legs.

"Let's get comfortable," she said, and carried me down the corridor from the lift into a very large and well-furnished lounge. We passed a table set with tea things, orange juice and some fancy-looking cakes.

"We'll have those later," she said. We sped past the table and into an equally large bedroom where a four-poster bed awaited. She laid me carefully on the silken sheets, put a pillow under my head and stood looking down at me.

"I don't think you'll be needing these in bed, Julie" she said, and started to remove my sneakers and socks. She balled the socks, put them inside the shoes and placed them on a chair beside the bed. Then she stood there, hands on hips, posing naked for me.

"What do you think of this outfit?" she asked. "Not too daring is it?"

"It's lovely," I said, joining in the joke. "Maybe you should wear it the next time you see the Queen."

"What about the back view?" she asked, turning around. Needless to say, she had a great arse too. She parted her legs a little and bent over so I could see her completely hairless pussy from behind. It looked almost as though she was holding a plump peach between her legs.

She turned again, climbed on to the bed and lay beside me, resting on one elbow. This left her with a free hand, which was soon between my legs.

"I've found something nice," she whispered. "What do you call this?"

"A vagina," I ventured.

"I call mine a cunt," she said, laughing. Even in this situation it was a little shocking to hear a Princess say the c-word. And rather thrilling. "You say it now," she instructed.

"Cunt," I said in a tiny voice.

"You're such a sweetie," she said, her face becoming rather serious. With that she rolled over and lay right on top of me, propped on both elbows, looking into my eyes. She was straddling my right leg. Such was our difference in height, her genitals were pressed against my knee. She started to grind her pussy hard against it, forcing her labia to open on my bony kneecap. She was very wet and slippery inside her crack.

"Sorry," she said. "I'm making your leg all messy." She didn't stop rubbing herself against me, however.

As far as I was concerned she could make me messy all over, so long as she did it this way.