Whatever homoerotic desires are set off by Andrew Lincoln or Robert Carlyle, it seems pretty unlikely even that they consciously play to them or have any same-sex experience. The essence of their appeal is, in fact, their very straightness. It is also highly unlikely that they would have such a pervy old queen for their agent or, if they had, would have stayed with him. But fantasy is a great liberator from commonsense facts.
When Andrew Lincoln set out to have an urgent discussion with his agent, the notorious but always successful Noel Raymond, he told himself that he needed to ensure that the part of Edward II was his. Mentally he brushed aside the fact that Noel had promised to reinstate him as the star of this yet-to-be-made film. A promise made in these circumstances needed to be checked in the cold light of day, he told himself. He could not bring himself to consider why he could not have made a simple phone call to him to check instead of this personal visit, an unannounced personal visit at that.
He had bigger things to think about - correction, to not think about. He tried to avoid reflecting on the scenes that jumped into his mind even when he'd been having heterosexual coitus the previous night. It was enough that the images were there. He wasn't ready to think about them because that would mean analysing them, looking for a meaning. Better to concentrate on his reward, the plum role. Besides, he'd been naked for so many before, routinely stripped bare for the cameras in Teachers, fully frontal if modestly distant for This Life. He'd never given a thought to flashing his cock, balls and arse at the viewing public of millions, so why should he do so for being naked the other night at Raymond's?
It had felt so different, that's why. Being led into a room with three of the most powerful producers in the film business had been a little intimidating, knowing he had to impress these blasé financiers. He had had the protection of the CKs provided by Noel but they were tight enough over his rump to make him feel a little vulnerable and there was nothing he could do to cover his crotch bulge. Seeing who they were when he had made his unusual entrance had given him courage. He knew for example that they had wives with them at premieres and was beginning to be sure that they were just going to check him out to see if he was worthy of their investment. The underpants were just Noel's idea of a joke, a test of his actorly talents. These old men, one of them with a belly as big as a watermelon, were just humouring the eccentric Noel Raymond and going along with the weirdness. Yes, that was it, he had told himself.
He had still been telling himself that as he had stood in their midst trying to hold a conversation with whichever chose to address him. After a few minutes of professional-seeming chitchat, the one with the belly had told him, 'I thought you were great in This Life, Mr Lincoln, but that was when you didn't hide your considerable talents away. Not like this.' Andrew had not known how to respond. Silently, the producer leaned forward, put his hands to the waist band and deftly yanked the CKs to Andrew's ankles. The men had even applauded, with an appreciative, 'Mmmm, very nice.' The scary part for Andrew had been that though he had felt a few flushes of shame to be so very exposed to the party, he had also known that he was enjoying the attention. He had even prayed that his cock which was becomingly shrivelled in its forest of hair would not betray him.
'Kick them off, love,' Noel had said. 'And get your legs parted. Wider!' Noel had sat down on the carpet between his legs and winked at the other eager watchers, now sitting forward in their chairs to pay the naked young Mr Lincoln their full attention. With no warning, he had placed his head between Andrew's firm thighs, throwing it back so that he could lick the ridge running from ballbag to arsehole. He had begun licking the rear part of the scrotum, his nose deliberately parked between his cheeks. He then ran his tongue again and again from balls to arse, pausing at each end to do a little more serious licking. Neither Noel nor Andrew had touched his cock, but the incessant stimulation of his perineum and now of the grooves between his crotch ridge and inner thighs had had the effect of making Andrew's rear up full mast. Surely there could be no further shame than standing there with a hardon as the men passed remarks about this to each other, treating him as the entertainment, no longer worthy of conversation. There had been, though. The force of his erection had turned out such that his spongey red cockhead had pushed its way out of the folds of foreskin and beads of precum had started to drip from his piss slit. One of the onlookers had rushed to kneel in worship at his beating erection. 'Oh, the smell. It's just delicious.' Noel had ceased his tonguing in order to claim this as his own contribution to that producer's pleasure. 'I know how you value foreskin, being from the land of the circumcised - no, not Israel.' They had all laughed too hard at the feeble line, showing how excited and on edge they now were at the spectacle Andrew was making of himself - or that Noel had set him up to be, 'Andrew tends to be a tad over-scrupulous, washing away all that flavoursome tang that you love. Isn't that right, Andrew love?' No answer had been expected or given.
As if on a signal, he had suddenly been surrounded by avid admirers, expressing the power of his physical attraction by fastening with their mouths on different areas of the body as Noel returned to the area between his legs. One of the men had chosen his nipples and had begun sucking so hard on each that Andrew had felt he was being milked. Another had begun more traditionally milking his hardon into his mouth while big-belly had accepted the invitation provided by Noel holding his cheeks wide apart to bury his face in his crack and hungrily licking his hole.
Had he wanted them to stop? Had he tried to preserve a little shred of decorum? No was the truthful answer. He'd been mildly shocked by the awareness at the time, but the pleasure had been too great to give him time to ponder then. Now, he just could not face the implications, so tried to concentrate on the great acting opportunity he'd gain by being an easy plaything. He tried to blur and efface the images of the orgy where he was the only naked participant, the way his spunk had shot hard from his cock not once but on two rapidly following occasions, the satisfied smirk on the face of the man who had taken it into his mouth and the other one who had had the second load splashed over his face, the different fingers lubricating his hole with KY and then taking turns in exploring his rectum, the camera flashes and the explanations about the value that these souvenirs would have for these men.
These were the thoughts that beset Andrew but that he did his utmost to ignore as he pressed Noel's buzzer. A manservant offered to take his coat and announce his arrival. 'Oh, don't be so Edwardian, Bill,' Andrew snapped back as he mounted the stairs two at a time. As he got closer to Noel's room, he heard what sounded like reports from a rifle, rhythmic cracks of sound. He knocked but another reverberating crack drowned out the knock. He entered to find Noel with leather belt in hand about to bring it down on what seemed by the rumpled grey shorts and simple white underpants at the victim's ankles to be a schoolboy. Edward who had coped with so much recently found this too much. He'd known and accepted that Noel was an unregenerate pervert but a child molester? a paedophile? This was too shocking, He felt sick and speechless.
'Oh, stop, you drama queen, for fuck's sake,' Noel smirked. 'What's a little corporal punishment between old pals?'
'Old?!'
'Well, older than you might imagine, darling. Come over and see for yourself.'
The shorts and pants had been suddenly pulled up and the legs had disappeared. Andrew moved forward, curious but ready to denounce whatever new perversion he was about to discover. 'Meet Roberta,' Noel simpered. 'Roberta - Andrea.'
'Robert Carlyle!' The star glared back, the frown of distaste and embarrassment not quite diverting Andrew's attention from the still only half-fastened buttons of the grey shorts. 'I've always admired you and hoped to meet you one day. Noel has mentioned you more than once as his most successful client. I'm honoured.'
Robert was beginning to recover his poise. 'I have to apologise for meeting you ... in this state.' He grinned reassuringly, holding out his hand. Andrew was so starstruck that he mentally edited out the fact that the arm was bare as was everything else to Robert's waist. 'We were just ... well, Noel can explain. I'd better get going. This was - uh - a social call. You look as if you need to talk business.'
'Oh that. That can wait. Please don't go on my account. It's such an honour to meet you. I hope you'll stay and chat a bit.'
'Ladies, ladies, why so formal? Of course you must both stay. You have so much in common,' Noel giggled. Seeing the glares directed at him from both men, never so straight-looking, he added, 'With your glittering careers and your acting talent, I mean.' His batting eyelashes showed that he had meant nothing of the sort.
'Roberta comes over - I'm sure she won't mind my telling you this, dear - because she's been - well - a very naughty girl who needs to be chastised every so often. Yet I'm not even sure she's Catholic.'
Andrew, still awestruck and not fully listening to Noel's twittering, remarked, 'Catholic? Oh yes. I thought you were wonderful in Priest,' he gushed foolishly.
'Oh, she was, and she really was acting - at that stage. Though we had quite a few rehearsals to help Roberta with her distaste for the sin of homosexuality.'
'Oh yes, I remember that too. I thought it was great the way that you played the gay character.'
'So did Linus Roache by all accounts,' Noel murmured enigmatically. 'But where are my manners. I should be offering two such distinguished guests a drink. Too early in the day? What, for a cup of tea? Come now, my dears.'
'Oh aye, you could make us a brew. It'll give me time to get dressed.'
'Now why would you want to go and do that, sweetie?' Noel retorted, sweeping from the room.
The two men looked uncomfortable, Andrew wanting to help the great man out, waiting for an explanation. However unlikely, it would be persuasive. That's how you treat a great actor, Andrew thought to himself.
'Is this for another film?'
'Eh?'
'The schoolboy clothes, you know. Maybe you were rehearsing.'
'We did a fair bit of rehearsal for Priest. I was an uptight bastard, a right fucking cunt, at that point in my life. But no, this wasn't a rehearsal. It was more the real thing, you might say.'
Andrew spotted the video camera and felt glad that there was a simple explanation - even if it didn't seem simple yet.
'I've got a good decent life with the wife and kids.'
'And a highly indecent one without them,' Noel hissed in a stage whisper as he brought in the tray of cups of tea. Andrew smiled companionably, wanting Robert to know that he knew he was only joking.
'No, he's right in a way. I do go off the rails sometimes and need a correcting hand.'
'A hand - or a strap or a cane.'
'Look, we're both men of the world - '
'Certainly women of the world - '
'Shut up, Noel. I don't know what brought you here today, Andy, but it wasn't to discuss your share of the profits for your next film. I know about you. Noel keeps nothing secret from me. But your secret is safe with me. Just as I trust mine to be with you.'
'Secret? What secret?'
Robert held his hand up to stop him. 'Play this the way you want. I can understand that, but I've been around too long to play games. I like getting fucked, OK. You heard it from me first. That doesn't make me a sick pervert or a raving queer, just somebody whose had his eyes opened.'
'And his bumhole.'
'Aye, and my bumhole. It's true enough.' He looked at Andrew, begging him to stop the play-acting and start talking man to man. All Andrew managed was 'Wow.'
Is that 'Wow, you're a degenerate and I'm a fucking family man and all-round heterosexual role model' or 'Wow, sounds like fun.'
'Wow, that sounds like fun. Hell, who am I kidding? It IS fun. I should know after what Noel has been putting me through.'
The star visibly relaxed and grinned wider than before. 'Bobby Carlyle!' He extended the hand of friendship. 'Andrew Lincoln,' the other reciprocated.
'Née Clutterbuck, but we'll let that pass now that you two have found common ground.'
They drank their tea in contented silence.
'Well, this is all very gentlemanly and reserved, but there is a better way surely for you two to kiss and make up. - By KISSING and making up.'
'I'm game,' Robert offered. Andrew looked uncomfortable. 'Come on, you'll have to do a lot more than kiss if you want to play Edward even half convincingly.'
'You know about that?'
'I know all about you.' He sounded definite and serious though there was no threat in his voice. It even seemed to have reassurance and protection in it. 'I wanted to meet you after what I've seen of you and your body, and especially after what Noel told me about the other night.'
Andrew remained silent.
'Oh, it's all new and such a great adventure. But you get scared afterwards. You think you'll never be able to fuck your bird again or it'll be you pregnant next time instead of the little woman.'
'Don't you dare mention pregnancy to Andrea. She's just getting used to the idea of being gang-banged. She can hardly cope with nine months up the duff.'
'Come here,' Robert nodded at Andrew, extending his arms. The kiss was as spectacular as it was inevitable. 'Oh yes, use those tongues, girls,' Noel cooed as he videoed their clinch.
He watched Robert's tongue dart into Andrew's mouth and stay there to be sucked dry of saliva, then Andrew invade Robert's. 'That's it, darling.' It didn't sound a bit mocking or girlish when Robert said 'darling'. 'That's it. Show me how you feel.' Their arms clasped each other's bodies so tight that the embrace was almost painful to behold. Their hands moved down each other's backs. Soon Robert was caressing Andrew's chunky cheeks. Noel roughly moved Andrew's down to Robert's tight little bottom, still in the grey shorts. There was considerable tenting out of the material of their trousers as the kisses went on and on and the bum caresses grew more violent.
'Take a break,' Noel bade them as he laid down the camera. 'You're not going for the Academy Award in this scene, you realise?'
'I come here to be thrashed,' Robert freely confessed to Andrew, staring intensely at the younger man, willing him to accept this. 'I have such needs in me that I often have to go about with a butt plug stuck up my arse and when I come to visit Noel I usually start with a long session sliding up and down the biggest dildo in the country. Bigger than any human cock. It felt right to get leathered for my sleazy habits. But then the leathering got to be a sleazy habit and all the sleazy habits turned into my idea of a fucking good time.'
This all came out as statement but there was a question in every sentence. 'Is it alright with you, Andrew? I know you like me. I like you. Accept me as I accept you.' Andrew said nothing, though. He was thinking over what he'd heard.
'When I first had Bobby on my books,' Noel offered, dropping the grande-dame act for a moment, 'I thought he was strictly off limits. I didn't even fancy him that much though I fancy straights. Too much the Glaswegian bit of rough for me. Not that handsome either. And far too skinny. Arses are my thing. I like big meaty voluptuous arses like yours, Andrew, not little bums with no flesh. Then I started coaching him for the Priest role and found he was lovely to kiss. Linus found that out when they began filming and then I found that Bobby wanted to try some more kissing off the set - with me this time, not Linus, and with friends of mine. And I discovered the wonders of his bum. It's like jailbait bot with no risk - even if you go for jailbait which I definitely do not.' He paused to shudder theatrically. 'He's got those smooth skinny legs, smooth hairless chest with nice nips.'
'So he gets me into my school uniform for a sound thrashing or if I'm really naughty a vicious caning.'
Andrew leaned across and gave him an open-mouthed wet kiss. When he emerged from the kiss, he declared, 'I'm not sure about the spankings, but I like being fucked, I know that. But most of all I like the fact that if you can talk about it so can I.'
'Why don't you two get your clothes off and see if all this freedom to talk turns into freedom to get fucked?'
He got Robert to show off his schoolboy bare bottom to Andrew who rubbed it appreciatively as if he were burnishing copper. 'What a lovely healthy glow a thrashing brings to his cheeks,' Noel remarked. 'But if you think he makes a nice innocent lad, it's another story between those tight buttocks.' Andrew saw what he meant when he pulled them apart. Robert's hole, hairless and bright pink, was also as large as some vaginas Andrew had plundered.
'Yes, it can take a giant dildo or even a man's hand, provided the hand isn't on a big man,' Robert affirmed.
'It can and does, Andrea dear. But you are being very rude, Roberta. Just because you're a big star doesn't mean you can ignore her.'
He looked genuinely apologetic. 'You're great, Andrew. I've always thought so when I saw you naked on screen. I love your hair, the stuff on your head but especially the stuff over your tits and crotch and -', turning him over, ' - as I suspected - up your arse. You must be a lovely fuck for some lucky man.'
'But for the moment let's concentrate on what you both need and want. Get on all fours, ladies. Heads down on your hands, arses stuck up in the air.' He anointed both holes with lubricant and watched the cocks begin to lengthen between their spread thighs. He then stuck the index finger of each hand in the holes before him and felt gratified by the sighs and low groans that his fingering produced. Suddenly, he pulled his fingers free, enjoying the quiet 'plop' that the retreat from their arses produced. The pause gave him the time he needed to place each man's hand over the other's stiff cock. Andrew's thick veinous hardon was nevertheless bested by the older star's sheer length, as Andrew discovered when his hand met Robert's cock.
'Now, big breaths, both of you.' They inhaled. Noel pushed a vibrator apiece up the two quivering holes, Robert's being twice the size of Andrew's - the vibrator as well as the hole. When he turned the vibrators on, the quiet humming did not mask the contented exhalations from each men. They began to masturbate each other's cock with some vigour, turning their heads to each other for a loving and lengthy french kiss.
'My work is done,' thought Noel as he brought the camera back from their bodies with what in the movies would have been the final view from a crane and would have turned into a helicopter shot with 'The End' filling the wide screen.
If you are a fan of Robert Carlyle or Andrew Lincoln, tell me about it on botviewer@aol.com. They have a strong effect on me, both of them for different reasons. I'm not quite Noel Raymond but I have a pervy side to me which would be not seem at all strange to him.