Country Girls & Dirty Secrets

Disclaimer:

This story is a work of fiction. It is intended for entertainment purposes only and is not affiliated with, endorsed by, or representative of any real individuals, including the public figures mentioned. Any resemblance to real events, actions, or personalities is purely coincidental. The depictions of real people are entirely fictional and do not reflect their actual behavior, beliefs, or personal lives.

VOL. ONE: MIRANDA LAMBERT

"So, you're the famous Cole Anders, huh?"

I turned around in my chair inside my booth at the Ryman Auditorium, the place were I had worked for the last ten years, to see Miranda Lambert standing next to Bobby Bones. Bobby, a regular at the Ryman, I had known for years. In fact, I was running the audio tonight for his charity event, the Million Dollar Show.

I stood up and shook the hand of the country music legend and said, "I don't know about famous, but I'm definitely Cole. It's nice to finally meet you, Ms. Lambert. I've been a fan since before I came to Nashville."

"Aw, thanks. Bobby says that you're the best audio guy in town," she said, making me blush a little.

"Cole here has become the most requested audio engineer in Nashville over the last year. He started out here at the Ryman, worked himself up to the lead audio engineer for the Opry shows, and now he has artists asking for him for arena shows, fairs, festivals, whatever. I hear he's doing all the audio for the CMA fest later this year," Bobby said.

"I don't like to brag," I started to say but was quickly interrupted by Bobby.

"But, you should. I only want the best for my charity show, and that's you. Now, listen, I've got to run, will you get Miranda all set up for tonight? Thanks," Bobby finished before taking off, leaving just Miranda and me in the audio room.

"Please, call me Miranda," she said as she reached into a bag and pulled out her custom in-ear monitor and pack and handed them to me. I quickly got it hooked up to the console I worked from and handed it back to her as the show runner for that night's event started to call her for a sound check.

I watched out of the corner of my eye as the busty forty-one-year old ran the wire for her monitor down through her shirt, clipping the pack to her belt, and plugging the monitor into the pack before leaving my area and walking out to the stage.

When the show runner gave her the go-ahead, her band started to play one of the songs they would be playing that night, her number one hit called "Bluebird," a personal favorite of mine. As the song started, Miranda glanced over at me and asked, "Can you turn down the guitar?" I nodded and made the quick adjustment, watching for her reaction. She gave me a thumbs up as she started to sing.

When the soundcheck was done, she walked over, thanking me for making the adjustment, and I helped her take off the monitor and pack, putting them in a special place I had marked for hers, so I knew where it would be later that night.

As the charity event got underway, my area was extremely busy. While Bobby Bones and his band, the Raging Idiots, where the main performers, he had at least ten other artists coming on to play their songs or just to talk, and I was in charge of all of their monitors. Luckily, I didn't have any major problems and was able to handle the adjustments needed on the fly.

There was a slight mix-up after the show, when somebody accidentally grabbed Miranda's pack and her team couldn't find it, but I quickly found it and hand-delivered it to her and her team.

"Thanks, Cole, I appreciate it. It's just an ear monitor, but you always hate having to buy a new one," Miranda told me as I gave it to her manager.

"Right? Especially when it's custom fitted," I said.

"Exactly! I figured you would understand that," she said with a laugh. "By the way, I think Bobby was right, you really are the best in town. Not too many could have handled an event like this pretty much by themselves."

"Thanks. It was crazy, but I enjoy it. I'm just glad everything went well and there wasn't any crazy dropouts or sound issues," I told her.

"If there was, I'm sure you would have handled it like a pro," Miranda responded.

"That's my job. Good night, Miranda, it was an honor working with you," I said before I walked back to my audio booth.

The only part of my job that I didn't enjoy was the clean up afterwards. Having to separate my equipment from the arena's equipment and from the artist's equipment. Luckily, the Ryman was my home base, so I kept most of it there, but I still liked things to be neat and orderly, especially after a crazy event like tonight was. So, while the Ryman's cleaning crew came in to clean up, I stayed and cleaned up my area.

As the sounds inside the historic auditorium started to die down, I was surprised to hear footsteps behind me. I turned to see Miranda walking back into the audio booth, a smile on her face and a drink in her hand. "Hey Miranda, what are you still doing here? I thought you would have left a while ago."

"I don't make it out to the Ryman too much, so when I do, I like to stick around a bit. Explore some. Think of the history," she told me as she leaned up against a wall and took a drink. "How long have you worked here? Bobby said ten years? Are you from Nashville?"

"Yeah, ten years. Ever since I moved to Nashville. Originally from the west coast," I told her, finally taking off the headset I wore and putting it away.

"So, what brought you to Nashville?" She asked, watching my every movement.

"I grew up loving country music, but couldn't sing or play an instrument. But, I wanted to be involved some how, so I moved here, got lucky to get hired as a stage hand and managed to find some talent and luck in the audio booth," I said.

"Its a tough town to break into. I got lucky, honestly. I bet you see lots of people come through here, eyes wide open, and fail," she said.

I nodded my head in agreement. "Seen a few, unfortunately."

Miranda was silent for a few moments before saying, "Bobby told me something else about you, too," her eyes dropping just slightly before flicking back up. "That you're not only good with audio, but good in bed. Or so he's heard."

I laughed to myself before saying, "Now, why would Bobby say something like that to you? Aren't you happily married?"

"Sure. I love my husband. I love that he stays at home, comes out when I need him, and lets me do whatever I want on the road. And he loves that I give him money to do what he wants and he gets to say that I'm his wife," Miranda said with a smirk on her face. "So, is it true? Do you sleep with the females that you help?"

I laughed again, standing up straight after putting some equipment away. Looking down at Miranda, as I was a full foot taller than her five-foot-four frame, I said, "I've slept with a few. Some that have made it. Most haven't. And I slept with them because we felt something at the time, not because I was their audio guy."

"Sure. You may have felt something or you like to tell yourself that. But, I've been around Nashville long enough and so have you, you know that girls looking to make it here will sleep with anybody that they think will help them," Miranda said, walking towards me.

She wasn't wrong.

"And you think that I could help you?" I said with another laugh.

"Don't kid yourself. I'm way past that part of my career," she said. I watched as she put her hand on my shirt and ran it down towards my stomach. "But, hey, if I hear that somebody is good, I may as well find out for myself."

I took a big gulp as Miranda's fingers quickly brushed against my groin. She glanced down at it, smiled, then started to walk away. Stopping at the end of the audio booth, she turned to me and said, "If you're game, you better follow."

I froze, just for a second. Enough to feel it, to register what was happening. What she was offering. The females I had slept with, hardly anybody would recognize their names now. Some had some minor hits before leaving Nashville. A couple had failed to get on radio, but were popular in the local bars. I used to brag that I slept with two-thirds of Runaway Jane, until the third found out and nearly got me fired. I got plenty close one night with Cassadee Pope, but it only got to third base.

But, now Miranda Lambert was telling me to follow her? Hinting very strongly what she wanted? After my initial hesitation, I followed right behind her.

She led me to her private dressing room, not looking back to see if I was there. She opened the door, just enough for her to step in, and I had to catch it to let myself in, praying that she wasn't kidding.

"Lock the door, Cole," Miranda said, her back still to me.

When I did so, she turned around and finally looked at me. She was dressed in all black for the charity event, with the sleeves of her shirt rolled enough to show off her arms and the tattoos on them. The fabric of the shirt was stretched tight across her chest, a sight that I had looked at more than once during the night. The silver medallion of her bolo tie caught the overhead light, swinging gently with every step like it had something to say.

Black jeans clung to her hips and thighs, tucked clean into a pair of pointed boots that probably cost more than my rent. I wasn't about to tell her this, but Miranda was my first country music crush, ever since she released her first single, "Me and Charlie Talking," in 2004 when I was just fourteen years old.

I never would have guessed now, having just turned thirty-two, that that same blonde-haired singer that I had fantasized about all those years ago, would now be walking towards me in a locked dressing room in the back of the Ryman Auditorium.

When she was right in front of me, Miranda stood up on her tip toes, her lips finding mine as we started to kiss. Her hands instantly went to my belt, undoing it and pulling it off my jeans. In between kisses, with her fingers pulling down my zipper, she said, "You can touch me too, Cole. I like to be in charge, but not that much."

That's all it took for me to wrap my arms around her, put my hands on her butt, and squeeze it as I returned her kiss. Her kiss was full of passion and fire, the kiss of an experienced woman who knew what she wanted and how to get it.

With my pants undo, Miranda slipped her hand inside and my boxers, wrapping around my thick, long member. She moaned into my mouth as she started to rub it up and down and I walked us backwards towards the couch in the dressing room. When my legs hit it, Miranda ended the kiss, quickly pushed my jeans and boxers down, and pushed me down to sit on the couch.

With her standing in front of me, I reached forward, putting my hands on her hips and pulling her towards me. As I did so, she peeled off her shirt slowly, revealing a black bra that cradled her full, round breasts like it had been made just for her. The lace traced the edge of soft curves that looked as bold and unapologetic as the woman herself. Not oversized or fake, just real, natural, and perfectly hers.

She left her bra on as I undid the belt holding her pants up and pulled her pants done to her ankles, where she stepped out of them and kicked them behind her. I kissed her stomach as I noticed that she didn't have any underwear on and asked, "Do you usually go commando?"

"Yes," Miranda breathed out as I kissed lower down, following a trail of barely-there hair to her groin. "I hate underwear."

"I'm not complaining," I said, as I breathed in her sweet scent and began to kiss around her bare vagina.

"Men usually don't," Miranda said, softly moaning as I ran my tongue up and down her slit, pulling her juices into my mouth as she grew wet at my touch. After a few seconds of me pushing my tongue past her lower lips and into her pussy, Miranda put her hands on my shoulders and pushed me backwards as she said, "Alright, let's see what you really got."

I leaned back on the couch, using one hand to hold my cock up, and guided my tip into her pussy as she climbed into my lap. Miranda moaned as she slid down my shaft, wrapping her arms around my neck and leaning forward to kiss me as she bottomed out.

I put my hands back on her butt as we ended the kiss and Miranda started to roll her hips back and forth, sliding my cock in and out of her pussy. I squeezed her buttcheeks as I pushed up into her, matching her as she came down.

After getting to a good speed and rhythm, Miranda unwrapped her arms from my neck, reached behind her back, and unhooked her bra. I kept my eyes glued to chest as she slid the bra down and pulled it away from her breasts. They sagged a little without the support from the bra, but still looked as magnificent as I had imagined they would. I watched them bounce and sway as she rode me, mesmerized by their movements.

I was broken from my trance when Miranda grabbed my head with her hands and started to guide it towards her chest as she said, "Suck my tits, now!"

I opened my mouth as her left nipple rubbed against my lips, and sucked it into my mouth. I flicked my tongue against it as Miranda moaned, continuing to bounce on my cock. As I sucked on her left nipple, I brought my hand up, cupped her right breast, squeezing it over and over, feeling the nipple grow hard against my palm.

With her hands still on my head, Miranda pulled me off her left nipple and started to push me towards her right breast. She stopped in the middle of her breasts, briefly burying my face in the cleavage of them, then let me guide myself to her right breast, giving that nipple the same treatment with my mouth and tongue.

"God, your tits are amazing," I told her as I took them out of my mouth a couple of seconds later, quickly moving back to her left nipple and using both of my hands now to cup and squeeze them.

"Not as amazing as your cock is. Oh my God!" Miranda moaned as she used her wide hips and thick thighs to bring her body up to my tip, sliding back down to my base, going over and over, letting her blonde hair bounce and sway freely around her head.

"I bet it would feel just as good if it was between your tits," I told her, continuing to alternate between her breasts, sucking, licking, and squeezing them.

"Hmm...I think it would feel best if you flipped me over and really pounded into me," Miranda whispered in my ear as she leaned forward, pressing her body against mine

"That, I can do," I said as I wrapped my arms around her waist and started to stand up. My cock slipped out of her as I turned us around and sat Miranda down on the floor. With one hand on her hip, I brushed some hair off her face with my other hand, before I turned her around, and gently pushed her down.

Miranda bent over the couch, using her hands to hold herself up on the back of it, spreading her legs just wide enough for me to see her pussy. I licked my fingers with my tongue before I rubbed her pussy with them, knowing full well that she was still wet enough, but wanting an excuse to touch her.

As I inserted my finger into her, Miranda moaned and pushed back, but said, "Come on, fuck me already. Hard and fast. Show me what a man you are."

I quickly replaced my finger with my cock, put my hands on her hips, and started thrusting in and out of her as hard and fast as I could. "That's it! Right there! Fucking give it to me!" Miranda moaned, shaking her head, and tossing her hair from side to side.

I raised one of my hands up in the air and brought it down sharply on her ass, doing it over and over, with Miranda moaning every time I spanked her. I alternated her cheeks, only stopping when they started to turn red. Still wanting my hands on her, I reached around and cupped her breasts again, squeezing them roughly every time I slammed into her.

"Fuck yes. Yes. Fuck. Fuck. Pull my fucking hair," Miranda moaned as she tossed her head back. I let go of her breasts and reached for her hair, gathering it up in a ponytail and pulling back on it. "Fuck yes! Oh my God!"

"Can I come inside you?" I asked Miranda, still in shock that I was actually fucking her.

"Yes," Miranda grunted out. "But if you come before I do, you better be ready to drop to your knees and finish me with your mouth."

"How about I just finish you now?" I teased her as I pushed deep inside her, leaned over, and kissed her back

Before she responded, I stepped back and kneeled down, keeping my hands on her hips while I leveled my face with her center. I stuck my tongue out, licking up and down her slit before pushing into her. She tasted faintly sweet, raw, real, and addictive. I could just barely taste my pre-cum as I pushed all of my tongue into her, burying my face in her groin, a taste I didn't really enjoy, but dealt with it when pleasing a woman.

As Miranda rested her head on the back of her couch, I darted my tongue in and out of her, being encouraged by her moans. I brought one of my hands down and wrapped it around to her front where I quickly found her swollen clit and started to rub it with my fingers.

I kept the pressure up on both her insides and her clit as Miranda slowly moved back and forth, pushing her butt into my face and rubbing up and down, continuing to moan as I ate her out. "So close. Right there. Don't stop. Don't stop. Fuck! Fuck! Yes!"

As Miranda reached her climax, she fought to keep her legs up, nearly collapsing on top of me but saving herself as I stood up and quickly guided my cock back inside her as her orgasm rocked her body. "Oh fuck, yes! Fuck me hard!"

I didn't waste any time as I slammed into her over and over, a brief thought of somebody hearing us crossing my mind but it was gone just as quick as I focused on how her body felt, how it moved, and how her moans sounded. I could just see her breasts moving back and forth as I pounded into her and was keenly aware of how different her pussy felt since she orgasmed.

She started to beg me for my cum, challenging me to finish inside her. In the middle of one of her sentences, I started to come, pushing in deep inside her pussy as I used my grip on her hips to pull her into me. My moans joined hers as I orgasmed, loving every second that I felt my cock shooting cum into the country music superstar.

"Oh fuck yes," I moaned out as I finished, breathing deeply.

"I agree," Miranda said as she looked back at me, slowly moving back and forth, enjoying every inch of my cock, milking it for all it had.

When I slipped out of her, she stood up from the couch, turning around, and giving me a quick kiss as she put her hand on my chest and leaned into me. "Do you think anybody heard us?"

"From my experience, its entirely possible, but luckily the building was pretty empty," I told her, wrapping my arms around her body and holding her close.

She wrapped her arms around my body as well, resting her head on my chest as we recovered from the spontaneous lovemaking. After a few minutes, Miranda said, "Why do I have the feeling that you won't let go of me if I don't move first?"

I laughed and said, "So you're not only extremely talented and beautiful, but you're smart as well."

"I didn't get where I am by being a dumb blonde," she said with a laugh as we unwrapped our arms and moved away from each other.

Miranda excused herself to use the private bathroom in the dressing room and I debated on if I should grab my clothes and go before she came out. But, what if she wanted me to stay?

But, what if she wanted me to go?

I slowly started to gather up my clothes and put them on, figuring if I got dressed before she came out, I would leave. Instead, Miranda, still naked, walked out just as I put my shirt on. She took one look at me and said, "Still here, huh?"

"Couldn't resist one last look," I said with a smile.

She walked towards me, putting her hand on my chest again and softly pushing me towards the door. She gave me one last, sensual kiss before opening the door and pushing me out it as she said, "Stick around for another ten years and I'm sure it won't be your last look."