A Naughty Story

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Two Hollywood Hunks in the closet...
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srlmort
srlmort
81 Followers

Richard

"Right here, Richard. Over here." Photographs barked orders for me to turn in every way they wanted. Lights blinded me from every angle, but I couldn't shield my eyes because the pictures wouldn't come out the way my agent wanted them to.

Doing as requested of me, I stood in the center if the oddly pink carpet, flashing my killer smile for the masses. Hordes of women and men were screaming for me to look their way so they could get a closer look or a precious snapshot for their cameraphone.

If I didn't know better I would've thought there was a weird scent in the air; the mixture of colognes, perfumes, and natural musks from too many bodies in a small area at once.

Nevertheless, I was attracted these smells. I could sense the desire from these people, and being the attention whore I was, I gobbled it up because I loved it.

I adored it and lived for this.

It was my life.

This life.

The life of a movie star, trapped in this mixed up world of fame and a little fortune. Throughout the years, I'd played the parts of dashing superhero, handsome mobster, as well as intelligent sheriff to delight of millions across the globe.

Every role had been curtailed to show off my bright, Colgate smile that hardly ever wavered.

Except when.

Distracted by my thoughts of my wayward lover, I dropped my gaze from the flashing bulbs of expensive cameras and glanced at my feet. He was nowhere to be found there, but I needed to look away if only to gather myself and forget the loneliness I experienced without him near.

He'd be here tonight though, with his gorgeous wife in tow, while I, the great Richard Thomas, stand alone. Alone, because I didn't wish to be bothered with my younger girlfriend's complaints about the length of the film or when we would go to dinner. I only wanted to enjoy the premiere, and hopefully steal a moment or two with the man I lusted after.

Issak.

If I could get him away from the masses of reporters and fans as well as our fellow stars who wished to get a piece of him as I did. His celebrity star was just as big, if not bigger than mine. He'd been courted the world over by many movie studios, desiring him to play the next anti-hero. He'd played that role so well in practically every film he'd done.

Too well if you asked me.

The man had a mean streak to him that hardly no one knew about.

I was, because many times I'd been on the other end of it, enjoying every minute, as if it were my means to survival.

Issak became my Dom, my protector, and I was his sub and his muse. Until I met him years ago, I had never been into the D/s dynamic, but being with Issak had completely changed my mind.

During our last conversation, he'd told me about the drawing he etched on his personal canvas while visiting the shores of Maui. Issak drew a picture of me, bound and gagged on top of his bed. My ass up in the air and ankles cuffed to a spreader bar to give him access to every part of my body. To loosen me up for his entrance, a butt plug was stuck far into my anal cavity while both hands were tied behind my back. He'd taken a picture of it and sent it to me while I as on the set of my next movie. He promised he'd want to act that scene out the moment we got the chance to be alone again.

When would that be?

I'd asked myself and him the question, but unfortunately, he didn't possess a single answer. From the day he'd sent me that message, I could only think of Issak and what he could do to me.

With thoughts of our rendezvous' becoming more frequent, my girlfriend wasn't interesting enough to hold my interest and many times, I sent her home in favor of masturbating to any Issak Trevett flick I could get my hand on.

That message was sent over sixty five days ago and at this moment I was at my wits end. To work off the frustration of not having my lover near, I worked out harder than before. I ran marathons for charity on my off time. When back on set, I stayed to myself, only so the crews wouldn't chide me for looking like a love lost puppy.

Yes, I had it bad for him.

I wanted him.

I desired him as much as I needed to breathe.

But no, oh no, it wasn't love. I had no problem declaring myself bisexual, but I knew I couldn't love Issak because it would be a detriment to both our careers. Besides, I was no homewrecker. Issak had the perfect family. Brianne was delightful and Issak often joked that we should tell her to see what her reaction should be. Of course, I told him no. The fling between was all I needed to fulfill and satisfy my sexual needs.

When being one of Hollywood's leading men, you have to keep a lot of those things on the hush because the blacklist is not a myth. Tell me, what dashing hunk do you know still gets top paying roles being a sexual deviant?

Issak

"Over here. C'mon, Issak. Show me what you got."

"Ah, Issak, oh my God, I wanna have your babyeeeee!"

If only I could say what was on my mind to some of these crazy people, but instead I had to grin and bear it for the crowds. Don't get me wrong, I loved the little people. All of them, but these open to the public movie premieres sort of unnerved me. After all, I had been attacked by a crazed fan years ago, leaving this oh so precious scar on my chin. Yes, it had become part of my personality. It gave me character. It made me hotter than when I was on Guerrila Heat wearing cutoffs and flexing my muscle around the dweebs on set. Despite the fame that came along with that slash to the face. I had paid a price and believe me when I say, I wouldn't want it to happen again. That lady was mental. She wanted a piece of my skin for her personal collection.

Yikes.

Yeah, I had nightmares for days after that and the bill from the psychiatrist nearly broke me. Now, however, the fans loved me because of that blemish. I've received deeper roles. The kind that gets you appearances at Comic cons and other nerdy conventions. I was Jenoa Bakkaba, I was Devlin on Guerrilla Heat. These roles would cement a place for me in history and make me, a vodka guzzling, basketball junkie a legend in Hollywood.

More than that, being in big time movies meant hobnobbing with actors bigger and better than you. During these meetings of the minds, you could have excellent conversation.

What to do about crazed fans literally stalking you or in cyberland? How many letters you should answer through your fan clubs? What to post on your social media, etc etc etc. I'd listened to advice on all this because my personal agent didn't think it was important. He thought finding my next roles and scheduling my next appearances were, so I relied heavily on my actor brethren to answer all the questions. All of them had been very helpful, especially the hot British man I had my eyes on now.

Tuning out the photographers and fans, I fixated on the gentleman called Richard wearing a gunmetal colored three piece suit with a gold tie and matching handkerchief. Looking at him, I suddenly felt very under dressed, but I was never into formals anyway. The ensemble fit him nice. Real snug, especially around the ass. The fabric hugged his butt cheeks and I salivated at the vision of spreading them wide open to dip my tongue and hard cock in between.

What's that you say? Why am I fawning of Richard Thomas?

Well, fuck, who wouldn't? He's so dreamy! (squeals in teenie bopper voice)

Ahem.

Yeah, I like it all. I may be married, but Brianne and I like to play from time to time. She loves the girls and I love the boys. Men, I should say because pretty boys did nothing for me.

So, why am I so into Richard?

He is very pretty. The azure blue eyes, the killer grin, the dimples, and the perfectly coiffed hairdo.

Yes, to all that, but he wasn't a twink.

I didn't do twinks. I ate them for lunch, because having a lover who didn't match me in strength bored me to tears.

No question, I love a man who looked good, but I also needed him to be rugged. Richard was that whether clean shaven or sporting fuzz on his cheeks and underneath his nose. He was gorgeous, and every chance I got to take advantage of the British heartthrob, I would gladly do so.

Ogling him while he posed for cameras, I swiped my tongue over my lips. My dick strained against my leather pants and I squeezed my legs together only to relieve some of the pressure.

If only we were alone right now.

If only no one gave a damn that two of Hollywood's hottest men were in a relationship.

Yes, a relationship.

Only he doesn't know it yet.

He believes it's an act of lust while I actually know better.

I'm falling in love with this man. This man, who I'd driven to the point of ecstasy. He'd accepted and adopted the power plays between D/s and instead of keeping myself in check I was drawn to him, like a magnet to metal.

I desired more.

Hell, we deserved more.

We hid ourselves from the world to satisfy its stupid ass complex of what hetero macho men should be.

Despite how forward Hollywood was, it was still taboo to be gay. Just ask Guy Tambor, how he can't get the bigger roles like Richard and I can. He's out. He has a beautiful husband. The moment he told the world he'd married a man, many of Hollywood's biggest directors and writers shut their doors in his face.

The guy doesn't regret it though and for that, I have to admire him.

Because I love what I do, I cannot tell the world about my torrid love affair with Richard Thomas.

If we did, it would be a social media disaster and destroy any career the two of us hoped to maintain in the process.

And we couldn't have that happen now could we? I had too much at stake in my career. I was already sort of a rebel, but other than being an inspiration to many bisexuals around the globe, I couldn't find another reason to out either one of us.

No question, I wanted to support everyone who did. I loved the community. Both Brianne and I wholeheartedly supported every queer charity we could with our money and words. Despite that, the losses would be too huge for all of us to out ourselves. We'd be pariahs in Hollywood and heck, if I had kids they might be picked on at school if our sexual history was public knowledge.

Sometimes there were good reasons to stay in the shadows and so fucking what if you don't agree. You aren't in mine or Richard's shoes, taking roles where we're forced to uphold a certain image. We do it to keep everyone around us employed and to keep the people that love us fed. For the love of everything that's holy, we couldn't come out and shock the world with our revelation. The best thing was to keep it all under wraps and let our fantasies stay in the shadows.

Still in deep thought, I felt a warm hand on my bare arm and a nuzzle against my cheek. I leaned down to feel the warmth from my wife and partner of over a decade giving the cameras everything they wanted for a loving couple.

"I dare you to go hug him!" Brianne whispered and followed it up with a swipe of her tongue over my earlobe.

Okay, Richard notwithstanding, I was married to the hottest person on the planet, She was cool, awesome in bed, completely understanding, and what can I say, she got me and I got her. We were the rebels, the black sheep, and we wore those hats proudly. It was another reason why I wouldn't out myself because I had the perfect setup already.

Feeling my cock pulse under my leathers, I grinned and eyed her with my patented panty dropping smile.

"You doubt my ability my pretty?" I said that to her in my best Brit speak.

"No, I don't, but I dare you to hug him like a lover in front of all these people."

To say what I wanted, I held my hand over my mouth so no one read my lips.

"He'll beat me down if I do that to him in front of the press. Especially fucking Getty. That man gets everything!"

"So you're chickening out?" Brianne's brown eyes regarded me.

Knowing she meant every word I cursed under my breath and grabbed her around the waist, kissing her head. "What's the bet?"

"You hug him and I convince Leslie to allow you to fuck her. You know she's scared as shit of your dick."

"Mhmm. And Leslie's quite the beauty." Leslie was Brianne's girlfriend on the side and, she only wanted Brianne. She wanted no part of me.

"And if I don't?" I rocked with her and the cameras were busy flashing our tender moment.

Brianne hugged me close and spoke into my chest. "Hmm, let's see. What would really hurt? Oh, I know. No vodka for a week."

Aw shit.

Again, I swore because I had to have my vodka as bad as I had to have my woman on my arm. That was my vitamin. That clear liquid of life gave me energy to be the Issak Trevett everyone knew and loved. Without that, I might as well be Guerilla Heat Issak all over again. All scrawny, with no form, no mojo, and barely no women. Okay, scratch that, I had women, but they weren't any of the gals I'd pulled down before I got hitched.

And, by the way, no Richard either.

Knowing what I had to do, I sighed and kissed her head. She pulled away from me and I spun on my heel, towards my target. I eyed him curiously, undressing him from head to toe, showing off the mischievous smile everyone knew and loved. No one except for me and Brianne had a clue about what I was doing which was good. It would ruin the surprise for him if anyone were the wiser.

Like a cat about to pounce, I tiptoed behind him, with my arms stretched out, ready to grab. I wrapped two arms around him, feeling his body tense and air escaped his lips.

"Fuck!"

Richard cursed aloud and he moved back against my frame so my dick touched the crevice of his ass.

I groaned, knowing I'd just soiled the lining between my cock and the insides of my trousers. Yeah, I was free balling tonight because God dammit, any extra cloth down there and I'd be sweating. The lining was so I wouldn't get friction burns on the tip on my dick. That shit hurt like hell. With this move, I wouldn't be suffering from burns, instead from the moisture spurting between my thighs.

"Issak."

Richard gasped my name out and I could've sworn I came again. He turned around, face pinked, smiling like he was generally happy to see me. I glanced down at the tent in his pants and knew I had the same effect on him as he had on me.

Apparently excited, Richard hugged me back like a Hollywood fellow actor and friend should. It was purely platonic to the eyes of many, but to me it was the foreplay that would fuel our night together. If there weren't so many tuned into this moment, I'd grab his ass and lift him off his feet for thrills.

"Richard, my man." I said it when we bear hugged with both our arms around each other's bodies. Once my mouth was close enough to his ear, I recited my room number. Brianne would be going to a friend's house once the premiere was over so we could hook up this evening.

"At the Crowne London, penthouse suite 3B." I'd slipped a keycard into his jacket when his back was turned to me.

With many eyes and camera phones on us, we pulled away giving each other more than generous smiles and hugs. In all honesty, we looked like two very high Cheshire cats. Both of us knew we had to play it up for the crowds and I was very sure some fanfiction writer would have a field day with these pictures.

"Right. Good to see you again." Richard lightly patted me on the chest and let go before either one of us would do anything rash. He nodded at me, clearly affected by that moment, but like the gentleman he was, Richard would not show everyone else how rattled he might've been.

With labored breaths, I watched him move on, then I turned and posed for more pictures. Little did they know the heat between us caused flames to consume my entire body. I ached to be with him. My heart thumped in my chest, damn near cutting off my breath and my dick was rock hard. Solid. I could hammer anything in my path because of that one hundred and twenty seconds with him.

God, what he did to me and my psyche was incredible.

"So, you did it."

I nodded and held her close to me again. "I did."

"And I guess I need to convince Leslie she has to ride you at least once."

"Maybe. I don't care either way, it's totally up to her."

"Aw, aren't you sweet. A bet is a bet." Brianne pinched my ass and I yelped a little. The photographers and the fans thought it was adorable.

"It is, but I really don't give a damn, babe. I got you and tonight I'll have my man."

I glanced at his slender frame walking into the theatre, greeting a couple of our co-stars on the way.

"And, that my dear, is truly all I'll ever need."

Richard

After the movie, I faked sick and jumped in my car to rush to the hotel. It just so happened both of us were staying at the Crowne which meant no one would know which room I was heading into.

Regardless, I always had disguises in my trunk just so we could meet up together. The main idea was indeed to keep our secret meetings a secret.

Not wanting to cause any undue attention, I walked fast to the elevator, not bothering to acknowledge anyone at the desk. At this late hour very few people worked anyway which meant I could get by without being seen.

Once I made it to the lift, I pressed the buttons and leaned back on the paneling. I eyed the numbers lighting up at the top of the elevator and sighed inwardly.

Thinking of that earlier exchange, my breaths hitched in my chest and immediately I sensed the blood rushing to my cock. Feeling the pressure on my groin, I reached down and gave my hardened erection a stroke through my trousers, replaying the entire vision in my head.

Issak was so close to me, taking such a risk grabbing me from behind. His big arms wrapped around me, pulling my backside to meet his dick.

Ugh.

I groaned and licked my lips while the scenario repeated in my brain. One of his hands slipped around my right side, sliding his penthouse key into my pocket. Him growling his room number into my ear coupled with hot breath tickling my earlobe. Thoroughly aroused, I finally turned to meet his gaze.

As the heat rushed to my cheeks, Issak's wild brown eyes gazed hungrily at me, saying I can't wait to fuck you this evening. It was all there on display if anyone read the messages.

Sure, we appeared to be two chaps who'd worked together ever so often, meeting at parties and awards shows, but those grins we'd exchanged were so much more. That sinister smile he gave meant your ass is mine and I returned it saying, I cannot wait until it is.

That was the effect Issak had on me ever since we started seeing one another. No one had the power to make me blush with regularity or make me forget my damn name. No one could edge me, then make me come on his command. Only Issak could and I looked forward to those scenarios happening again. Not only because I desired it, but hell I needed it for my sanity.

The ring of the elevator, signaling the arrival to the correct floor disrupted my lusty thoughts. I walked off the lift and made the turn to his suite as he'd requested. I reached inside my right pocket, sliding the key out, then waved it over the censor to unlock the door. With one click, I was inside and I carefully closed the door behind me.

Striding through, I waved my hand over the sensor and the place lit up like a Christmas tree. The suite was similar to mine. The off white walls covered with random photographs of the city. The living room held a couch, a recliner, and two tables on either side with a small coffee table in the middle. Atop one of those side tables sat a decanter with whiskey inside. Undoubtedly Scotch because that's what Issak drank other than vodka. I could tell the container had been hit several times already.

Walking through the sliding doors to the next room, I eyed the bed, covered in white sheets along with a grey bedspread. The four pillows sat up on each side, encased in the same colored coverings. Lying against one of them, a note, that appeared to be folded in half like a card.

srlmort
srlmort
81 Followers
12