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The Celebrity
Horny on a Sunday afternoon, all my studying done, looking at a gay hook up site on the web, a guy hit me up, I looked at his profile -- my height, a little pudgy, Hispanic but very white, big thick cock, lived in the better part of the mixed/Hispanic part of town, bottom, "professional singer".
I texted, he texted back, I called, we talked a bit, and he gave me directions to his apartment. "There might be a "guard" on the street from the motorcycle club which has its Philly headquarters here, if he asks anything, tell him you are going to do some music business with Bertie Sanchez, and you will be fine."
It was far enough away that I took my truck, I did not feel like paying for an Uber and it would take two subway/elevated trains and a bus, and it looked like rain. So, I jogged the mile over to my truck, about to be 11, it started right up, like it always did, and drove over.
There were a couple dozen Harley's parked next to the address I was given, and some crappy parallel parking jobs by several cars -- too close together to fit my truck, but if they had parked like normal people, two more cars would have fit. I stopped at a space that might have been big enough, and this big muscled dude came over to me.
"Hi," he said, quite pleasantly. "What are you doing here, I have not seen you before."
"I'm going to see Bertie Sanchez, we have a little business to do."
"Drugs?"
"No, music."
"Ok, I will move this car here, and then you can fit your truck in. Tell Bertie, 'Jose says Hi.'"
He moved the car, I parked the truck, I thanked him, went to the door, buzzed the buzzer for Sanchez, he buzzed me in, and we looked each other over. He was wearing a baseball cap, Philadelphia Phillies, a T shirt with a picture of Ten Inch Nails on it, and nothing else. His cock was hanging and it was BIG. He had a little excess flesh, but not much, a little belly, not much, his ass was a true bubble butt, and he had purple hair, both on his head and his pubes. But he was not fem, and his cock was both longer and fatter than mine.
On the walls were posters for him, and his albums, and his tours. We talked a while, he was a much bigger hit in England than in the US so far, an album had hit their top 10 for 8 weeks last year. I had never heard of him. He played his hit single for me, I can't say it was my kind of music, sort of a gay themed hip-hop/rap thing, in Spanish and English, but he did have a tremendously good voice and good dance moves.
I told him about my parking situation, he told me Jose was hired by the motorcycle club to guard their bikes, there were four guys that worked 24/7 in shifts, all Puerto Rican, and the Club itself was all white. Bertie was Puerto Rican, but born in Philly, spoke Spanish growing up at home, and English everywhere else, so was fluent in both. He told me that if you did not interfere with the Club, it was the safest street in that part of Philly.
"I usually tip Jose $10 when I pick up my car. Get comfortable," and offered me a beer, or a Gatorade, I took the Gatorade, and took off my clothes. I was hard looking at his big cock, which was growing by the second once he saw mine. "I need to be fucked," he said. He produced a condom and some lube and bent over the back of the couch. "Just suit up and put it in." He put a towel under him, "to protect the couch from lube and cum," he noted.
And, with no preliminaries, I slipped it in. He had great control over his ass, and worked my cock. "Just stand there and let me do the work," he said. So, I did. "When I ready to be fucked hard, I will let you know, then give me everything you have." He still had his baseball cap am and T shirt on.
"Do you want to take your shirt off?" I asked.
"No," he said, "this is the way I am." I tried to feel up under the front of his shirt and he stopped me. In the video he had a cap and a shirt on as well, but made a lot of the bulge in his briefs, down to which he got during the sort of striptease dance he did. I figured I got what I came for, a good fuck as a top, and the sight of a big cock, so I did not press him as to why the hat and the shirt. Bald? Lesions from AIDS? Anyway, we talked for a while about the music business, how he got to be a hit in England, his plans for a European tour, he had a gig scheduled in Philly at a club that was gay friendly, but not gay per se, he had a good agent and a manager who did not really get what he was trying to do, not that I did either.
"I finally fucked a celebrity!" I said.
"Who me?" He laughed.
Given the uncertainty of the music business he was living in the place he was to save money in case he had to go back to waiting tables. He told me he wanted me to bring a friend who was a top, the next time I came, so one of us could fuck him while he sucked the other.
He asked I wanted to go again, I usually would, but the horny part being gone, and the concern about what he was hiding, such as AIDS, and worrying about the neighborhood, bothering me, I begged off and left. My truck was still just fine, I tipped Jose $10, he held traffic for me, and I was gone. I eventually bought his DVD, the one song he played for me was clearly the best, but none of them were enough to make me a fan, of his music, of his body, of the lower half, yes, the upper half, no idea not having seen or touched it. I tried to get in touch a few months later, texts went unanswered, but an email got the response he was performing to rave reviews in Germany and was headed to England for more.
Whatever, but I did get to fuck a celebrity!