aFireFist
A Life in Hollywood
Chapter 20 - Taylor Swift and Selena Gomez {1989 Tour} - Part 3
Taylor watched them in the mirror, a small smile on her face. She reached up and brushed a strand of dark hair behind Selena's ear, fingers lingering against her cheek for a second longer than necessary. "See? I told you. Just breathe."
Osiah worked lower, thumbs pressing into the muscles along Selena's shoulder blades, finding the tight bands of tension and coaxing them to release. Her breathing slowed. Her head tipped forward slightly. Taylor's hand drifted down Selena's arm, then rested lightly on her waist, thumb stroking absently over the fabric of her top. The air in the room shifted—thicker, quieter, charged with something that hadn't been there when they first walked in.
Selena's eyes opened again and found Taylor's in the mirror. Her voice came out softer than before. "Tay…"
"It's okay," Taylor whispered. She leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the side of Selena's neck, just below her ear. Her lips lingered there, warm. "I've been thinking about this for a while. Both of you. Together."
Selena's breath hitched. She didn't pull away. Her eyes stayed on Taylor's in the glass, searching, then slowly softening.
Taylor's hand slid up under the hem of Selena's top, palm resting against bare skin at her waist. Osiah's hands stayed professional a moment longer, still working the last of the knots in her shoulders, then followed Taylor's lead. His fingers brushed the sides of Selena's ribs as he continued the massage, the touch turning less clinical and more deliberate.
Selena's head tipped back slightly against Osiah's chest. A quiet, uncertain sound left her. "This is… a lot."
"Only if you want it to be," Taylor said. She turned Selena's face toward her with gentle fingers and kissed her—slow, careful at first, just lips, then deeper when Selena kissed her back. The kiss stayed soft but hungry. Selena's hand came up to rest on Taylor's hip.
Osiah kept his hands moving, sliding fully under the top now. He cupped the soft weight of Selena's tits through her bra, feeling the warmth of her skin and the way her nipples had already tightened. She arched into the touch with a surprised sound that Taylor immediately swallowed. Taylor broke the kiss just long enough to look at him over Selena's shoulder, eyes dark and certain.
"Take it off," she said softly.
Selena hesitated only a second, then lifted her arms. Osiah pulled the black top up and over her head, then unhooked her bra and drew it down her arms. Her tits were full and soft, nipples already tight and flushed. Taylor immediately cupped them in both hands, thumbs brushing over the nipples while she kissed Selena again, deeper this time. Osiah's hands moved lower, sliding into the waistband of Selena's jeans, fingers brushing the already-damp fabric of her panties.
Selena moaned into Taylor's mouth, the sound muffled and shaky.
They didn't go further than that—not yet. Hands and mouths only. Taylor kept kissing her, kept playing with her tits, pinching and rolling the nipples while soft, filthy encouragement spilled out of her between kisses. "That's it… let him touch you… fuck, you look so good like this… just feel it…"
Osiah rubbed Selena's clit through the wet cotton of her panties in slow, firm circles, two fingers pressing and stroking. Selena's hips twitched. Her breathing grew uneven. Taylor sucked one nipple into her mouth and flicked it with her tongue while Osiah kept working between her legs. The quiet room filled with the soft sounds of kissing, the wet friction of his fingers against damp fabric, and Selena's increasingly desperate little moans.
Selena came once, thighs shaking, a surprised cry muffled against Taylor's shoulder as her whole body tensed and then trembled. Osiah eased the pressure but didn't pull his hand away until the last waves had passed. Taylor held her through it, kissing her hair, her temple, the corner of her mouth.
When it was over, Selena was breathing hard, cheeks flushed dark, looking a little stunned and very turned on. Taylor kissed her forehead and smiled, soft and pleased.
"Later," she said quietly. "After the show. Properly. All three of us."
Selena nodded, still catching her breath. "Okay."
They fixed their clothes in silence for a minute. Selena put her bra and top back on with slightly unsteady hands. Taylor helped smooth her hair. Osiah stepped back and gave them space to reset. Taylor checked the time on her phone and grinned, the heated tension shifting back into something brighter and more focused.
"Show starts in forty. Let's go make them lose their minds."
Osiah opened the door. The three of them stepped back into the hallway like nothing had happened—except for the residual flush on Selena's cheeks and the way Taylor's hand brushed his as they walked. The arena was already loud with the sound of the crowd filing in, thousands of voices building into a steady roar.
The show that night was one of the strongest of the tour so far.
Osiah watched from the wings as Taylor opened with her usual high-energy numbers. The Philadelphia crowd was already screaming loud enough to shake the floor. She looked completely in control—sparkly bodysuit catching every light, long legs powering through the choreography, ass popping cleanly with the beats, tits bouncing lightly as she hit the sharper moves. Sweat started to glow on her skin by the third song, making the fabric cling. Every time she glanced toward the side she found Osiah's eyes and gave him the smallest smile, like they were still sharing the secret of the dressing room.
Selena's entrance came just after the midpoint. The lights dropped to a single spotlight. Taylor's voice softened into the opening lines of the duet, and then Selena walked out from the opposite wing in a sleek black dress that hugged her curves—full tits, soft waist, round ass, long legs. The crowd lost it the second they recognized her. The roar was immediate and deafening.
Their voices blended perfectly. Taylor's brighter tone wrapped around Selena's warmer one like they'd been practicing for months instead of one afternoon. They moved together easily—standing close, sharing the mic for a few lines, smiling at each other between phrases like the rest of the arena had disappeared. Osiah kept one eye on the technical side (the follow spots stayed locked on both of them, the wireless packs stayed clean, the lighting cue he'd adjusted earlier landed exactly right) and the other on the two of them. Taylor looked radiant, completely in her element. Selena looked a little nervous at first, shoulders tight, then settled into it as the song built. Her body relaxed. By the final chorus the whole arena was singing with them, thousands of voices lifting the harmony.
When the number ended the roar was deafening. Taylor pulled Selena into a quick, tight hug under the lights, both of them laughing, and the crowd only got louder. They finished the rest of the set with that extra electricity still hanging in the air. Taylor's final encore had the entire building on its feet, phones lighting up the dark like a second sky.
After the last bow, the two women came off stage flushed and glowing, still breathing hard from the final number. Sweat shone on Taylor's collarbones and between her tits; Selena's sleek black dress clung to her damp skin. Taylor grabbed Osiah's hand and Selena's at the same time and tugged them both down a quieter hallway, away from the main celebration and the crew still packing up gear. Her grip was firm. The look she shot him over her shoulder said everything—later had arrived.
"Private dressing room," she said, voice low and already heated. "The one at the end. No one will bother us for a while."
The room was small but comfortable—soft lighting, a wide couch against one wall, a vanity with the bulbs still on, a locked door that shut out the hallway noise completely. The second the latch clicked behind them, Taylor turned and kissed Selena hard. Selena made a soft surprised sound against her mouth and then kissed her back, hands settling on Taylor's waist, fingers curling into the sparkly fabric of the bodysuit. Osiah locked the door and watched for a moment as the two of them pressed together, tits brushing, mouths open and hungry, the wet sound of the kiss loud in the quiet room.
Taylor broke the kiss and looked at him over Selena's shoulder, eyes dark and bright at the same time. "Come here."
He stepped in. Taylor pulled him into the kiss so all three of them were sharing it—messy, wet, tongues sliding, the taste of stage sweat and leftover lip gloss. Selena's hands found his chest, palms flat against his shirt. Taylor's hand dropped between them and cupped the front of his jeans, feeling how hard he already was, giving him a slow squeeze.
"Been thinking about this all day," Taylor murmured against his mouth. "Both of you. At the same time. Watching her sing with me and knowing what we were going to do after… I've been wet since the second verse."
She tugged Selena's dress up and over her head in one smooth motion. Selena's tits spilled free—full, soft, nipples already tight and flushed. Taylor immediately ducked her head and sucked one into her mouth, cheeks hollowing, tongue flicking. Selena gasped and threaded her fingers into Taylor's hair, holding on. Osiah reached around from behind and cupped the other tit, thumb brushing the nipple in slow circles while he kissed the side of Selena's neck, tasting salt on her skin.
Selena's breathing got shaky fast. "Fuck… okay… yeah… that feels—"
Taylor pulled off her nipple with a wet pop and looked up at Osiah, lips shiny. "Get her on the couch. I want to watch you eat her pussy while I sit on her face."
They moved together without much talking. Selena ended up on her back on the wide couch, thighs spread, black panties still on. Osiah knelt between them, hooked the soaked fabric to the side, and dragged his tongue up her already-slick folds in one long, slow stroke. She was wet and warm and tasted clean with a faint trace of arousal. Selena moaned and arched, one hand flying to the back of his head. Taylor climbed up, straddled her face, and lowered her own pussy down without hesitation.
"Lick me," Taylor said, voice rough. "I want to feel your tongue while he eats you out. Don't be shy."
Selena's muffled sounds got louder the second Taylor settled on her mouth. The wet noise of her tongue working between Taylor's legs filled the room. Osiah licked her properly—long, slow strokes from entrance to clit, then focused on the swollen bud, sucking gently while two fingers slid inside her. She was tight and dripping. Selena's hips rolled up against his face, chasing more. Above him he could hear the wet sounds of Selena eating Taylor, and Taylor's filthy running commentary spilling out between gasps.
"That's it—fuck, your tongue feels so good—right there—don't stop—deeper—Osiah, make her cum for me—I want to feel her moan into my cunt—"
Osiah curled his fingers and kept sucking her clit in steady pulses. Selena came first, thighs clamping hard around his head, a long broken moan vibrating against Taylor's pussy as her walls fluttered and clenched around his fingers. The sound and the vibration pushed Taylor over right after. She ground down harder, one hand braced on the back of the couch, thighs trembling as her orgasm hit. A little wetness dripped down onto Selena's chin and lips. Taylor stayed there for a few extra seconds, panting, before she finally lifted off.
They didn't stop. Taylor slid down and pulled Osiah up for a messy three-way kiss that tasted like both of them. Then she pushed him to sit on the couch and climbed into his lap, knees bracketing his hips. She wrapped her hand around his c,
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