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by Cristiano Caffieri

You wouldn’t have expected to see Harry Styles from One Direction walking down the main street of Zipperdown, Pennsylvania, however, you might have seen his double Scott Burman. The twenty year old was the spit and image and he dressed and did his hair to punctuate the similarity.

The local girls, who always referred to him as Harry, mobbed him like they would with the real thing. “Take me out Harry and I’ll let you go all the way,” they’d scream, but that didn’t wash with Scott, he’d had a strict upbringing and having sex before marriage had never been heard of in his family. It doesn’t mean they hadn’t done it, it just means that nobody had heard about it.

Being the center of attraction for half naked screaming girls, to say nothing of a few half naked cougars, did have its drawbacks. He’d often end up jerking himself off twice a day and watching porn on his mobile until he was nearly blind. But the woman who flashed through his mind when he polished his nightstick was not one of his dizzy fans but someone who was less than impressed.

Her name was Sharolyn Keats. She was the same age as Scott and was admired locally for her entrepreneurial spirit. Instead of going to college, she’d opened a dress shop and built a successful business. She advertised her clothes, many designed by her, by walking around town to display them. In spite of the fact that few people had her gorgeous figure to carry them off, they still bought them and she spent a lot of her time letting out seams.

Harry, we’ll call him that for the sake of the story, could not understand why this one woman was not swept away by his celebrity features and it bothered him. He’d tried to speak to her on several occasions but she as good as ignored him. However, one day she had a sign in the window asking for help. She needed someone to assist her in moving to larger premises, and as he was at a loose end at the time, he applied. Of course, Harry would not have been her first choice but no one else seemed to want the job.

He started the following Monday morning in the back room, packing dresses, coats and scarves into boxes and stacking them ready to be moved down the street. Of course, word got around that he was working there and Sharolyn suddenly started to do a brisk trade. She quickly realised that he was good for business and although she was not a fan of Harry Styles, she thought she might grow to like him.

When all the stock had been moved and organized in the new store, she actually bought some One Direction CD’s for background music and allowed him to serve the customers. She was still not overly friendly but she saw his commercial value.

Business was booming, so Sharolyn decided to take it one step further and walked in one morning looking like Taylor Swift. Her hair, her clothes, her lipstick, she had it all down to a tee.

Now people began to come in from other towns, even as far away as Harrisburg, and the young entrepreneur started to design clothes similar to the ones worn by the two music stars. She even changed the store name to Swift Styles and had appropriate posters all over the walls. Harry was getting paid well but he was getting a little concerned about Sharolyn, who not only called him by the singer’s name but insisted that he called her Taylor, even though he explained that the real couple had broken up long ago.

He was still keen on her, in fact, since she had taken on the new image he’d become more and more attracted to her. One night when she left him to close up, he decided to have a wank in the back room. There, amongst a few of her personal items, he found a pair of her panties and rubbed them on his face for inspiration.

Sitting in a straight-backed chair he took out his cock and started to slide his hand up and down. He’d only been doing it for a few seconds when he heard a cough. He looked up and there was his boss in all her Taylor Swift finery.

“I forgot to take the money to deposit in the night box,” she said, then looking down his employer remarked on what a big dick he had.

“I think you and I should make up Harry,” she said, in a very sultry tone.

Poor Harry didn’t know what to say or do. He just sat there with his schlong still in his hand and a red face that positively glowed in the dimly lit room.

“I’m sorry,” he said at length, “It’s just that you make me horny. You always have. “

She smiled, “If I’m responsible for causing you to have a hard on, I think it’s my responsibility to help you reduce the swelling.”

Kneeling down before him, she took it in her hand and rubbed it across her scarlet lips. She continued to do this, licking the fluid leaking from the eye occasionally. Then without warning, she squeezed it hard within her fist and plunged the end into her mouth. Harry gasped, closed his eyes and forced his head back in the chair as she slipped it deeper and deeper down her throat.

Just when he thought life could get no better, the fingers of her left hand forced their way through his flies and began to play with his balls. His breathing became more and more intense as he could feel his semen moving upwards.

“I’m cumming,” he yelled and she took it out of her mouth, working it with her hand until it splooged out all over her face.

Harry just sat there, panting heavy and without a clue as to his next move. But his boss took control. She stood up, and very sensually began to strip. When her top and bra came off and her perky pink tits were exposed, he got up quickly and virtually ripped off his tee shirt and jeans.

She wriggled out of her mini skirt and then her panties, handing the delicate lacy underwear to the traumatized Harry.

“Smell them if it will make you extra horny,” she smiled.

He did as she requested but his dick was already solid and didn’t really need any more stimulation.

“Do you want to suck my tits Harry?” she teased, shaking them close to his face.

Her loyal employee didn’t need a second invitation and he pounced on her sending the both of them sprawling onto a pile of fabric. She was about to tell him to take it easy but he already had one tit in his mouth. He had the other in his hand and was kneading it furiously.

Sharolyn was groaning and moaning and running her long painted nails through his wavy hair. When he slipped one hand down to finger her dewy bush, she got even more vocal. Harry deliberately took his time to make contact with her hot, wet hole but when he did he just gasped, “Oh fuck!” as though it was a complete shock.

She reached down and guided his finger up and down her slit but once he’d gotten the hang of it, she left him to his own devices. However, Harry had seen enough porn to know that women just longed to be eaten out and he was more than anxious to please.

Dropping to his knees, with his face between her warm tight thighs, he crushed his lips against her swollen labia and started to lick. After just one taste, he couldn’t get enough of it. Harry buried himself deep into her pink petals and lapped his tongue up and down like an excited puppy. She reached back and held on to a nearby rail as he continued to suck her juices.

When she came, her cunt twitched, her ass gyrated and she screamed.

“For God’s sake, put it in and fuck me!” she cried.

Harry had never put his dick into woman’s cavity before and it took a few nervous tries before he got his aim right. Sharolyn was panting as if she couldn’t wait. When he finally succeeded in penetration, her whole body seemed to go stiff and she grabbed onto his shoulders and commanded, “Fuck me, fuck me hard Harry!”

It might have been a new experience for him but he pounded her pussy like a professional. The muscles deep inside of her seemed to grip the end of his knob every time he drove it up to the hilt. This caused him go faster and faster until he blew a giant-sized load, giving out a primeval roar as he did so.

He could never have imagined how much better it was than masturbating. His whole body was aglow and his balls, although aching a little from the banging they’d taken, felt as though they could go another five rounds. From that moment on, their lives were never the same. They had regular sex in the back room and six months later they appeared before a defrocked priest, who came as a Miley Cyrus lookalike, in a doppelganger themed wedding. The police chief, dressed as Lady Gaga, gave his rendition of “Bitch Don’t Kill my Vibe” to a teary congregation and all seemed right with the world. However, due the fact that large amounts of home brew were consumed and there were no fewer than twelve couples impersonating Styles and Swift, mistakes had to be expected.

Poor Harry aka Scott, found that he’d been married off to the wrong Taylor and now lives with his bride on a dirt farm in Arkansas. They’ve been assured that they will be granted an annulment on the grounds that they are not cousins.
THE END

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Copyright 2015 Cristiano Caffieri

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