Disclaimer: The author makes no representation as to the sexuality of either of the main characters, or about the plotline of an otherwise insignificant film.
Winning A Date with Tad Hamilton, Part 3
Topher was lost in his own daydreams, thinking about his first big break, as a star on "That Seventies Show." While he was definitely hungry for seeing the rest of Josh's obviously well-muscled body, he could content himself with memories of the the crazy times that came from his television days.
When he first tried out for the sitcom, he was still a rookie actor, with only a couple of commercials and other random spots to his credit. Without the macho bravado that his fellow auditioner Ashton Kutcher brought to the set, he felt awkward and ill-at-ease, and wasn't sure whether to be happy or sad, at the time, when they were both picked. Kutcher had a presence when he entered the room, and Topher wasn't sure whether it came from his swagger, poise, or big midwestern smile.
"What the heck kinda name is Topher?" asked Ashton on their first day of reading scripts. "Is it short for anything, or did your parents just fuck up royally?"
"Um, no," he replied. "They named me Christopher; I just got tired of people calling me Chris. It's just too common of a name."
"Whatever, dude. If that makes you happy..."
As the seasons wore on, the two of them got to be closer acquaintances, but never really crossed the threshold into friendship. Maybe it was because each was highly guarded. Maybe it was because of their inwardly competitive nature. Or maybe it was just because they didn't really have much in common.
As the sixth season drew to a close, and it became apparent that both of them would likely be pursuing other acting opportunities, Grace made a last effort to try to cement a friendship. "Ashton, I know that you are really busy with your other projects, but I think that it would be awesome if we might, well, do a guys' night out in New York. What do you think?"
"Man, I think that sounds like a great idea. Just for kicks, I'm going to invite the guy who's angling to take your spot, should you choose to leave like you keep on threatening."
"Um, sure, I guess that could be fun."
Two weeks later, both guys had boarded the company jet for New York. It was hot in California - anything more than a tee-shirt and shorts and the sweat would come pouring - and New York was only about ten degrees cooler, but far more humid. They had reservations for one of the suites at a Times Square Hotel and were planning to meet with Josh Meyers for drinks at a private club before heading out for the evening.
After opening the door to the suite, Ashton walked in, flopped on the couch and threw a leg over the arm. "So, what do you have in mind? And, what the fuck should we wear? I'm thirsty. Can you get someone to bring us some drinks? Or, do you want to get them for us yourself?"
"I'm not sure, and I guess you should wear whatever you feel like. As for drinks, I'm thirsty, too. But I think we should call room service. And, Kutcher, I'm, um, not your bitch," replied Topher, hesitantly.
"Ha! I like your attitude. But, you know what, I don't need to hear lip from you. And, you know what, I AM going to call you my bitch. Or else I'm going to let it leak that you invited me out hear just so that you could try to jump me, and that I'm going to quit the show unless they get you to leave."
"I've never been anyone's bitch before. I'm not sure that I want to start, now. What do you have in mind?" asked Topher. "I mean, I'll pay for drinks and girls and whatever else you -"
"Oh, that's too easy. Let's see. Start with unpacking all my shit," ordered Ashton.
Dutifully, Topher walked over to the bags and rolled them into one of the guest rooms, with Ashton in tow. It almost seemed like there was a major height difference between the two, even though Ashton outranking Topher by only 4 inches (6'2" vs 5'10"). Topher slowly, with head bowed, pulled out all of Ashton's clothes and put them in the drawers, as Ashton looked on, bemusedly smiling, as he reclined on the bed with his hands behind his head.
"Now, I want you to pick out what I should wear. It needs to be something that will look good - I need to make sure my fans are pleased."
Topher, scared, started rooting around in the drawers, pulling up different things, each of which earned a quick shake of the head.
"I'm getting impatient. This shouldn't take you all day. What, does your mommy pick out your clothes for you?"
Red-faced, Topher pulled out the next item that he could grabbed and held it up triumphantly, without even looking. Ashton burst out laughing. It was his favorite pair of underwear, something that he had modeled for Undergear years prior called the Pulse Cotton Sheer Sock.
"Do you want to see me wear that? I'd be happy to put it on. Just be ready for the show."
Ashton stood up, ripped the underwear from Topher's hands, and ripped off his own shirt, tearing it in half down the middle before shucking quickly his shorts and boxers. Standing there in only a pair of sandals, he towered over Topher, smiling. "You asked for it, man."
Ashton pulled the material up so that it tightly fit around his waist, framing his dick perfectly, only inches from Topher's face. Slowly, Topher licked his lips and then took a deep breath before a line of drool formed and dropped from his mouth.
"Like it?" Ashton asked. Wordlessly, Topher gulped and nodded, trying to catch his breath.
"This is even easier than I had expected," Ashton thought. "Suck it, then," he commanded.
Topher leaned forward, cupping Ashton's tight ass with his hands. Slowly, using just his tongue, he started to lick up one leg, from knee to waist, then tracing along the rim of the material, then back down to the other knee, before starting that slow orbit again. Each time, he moved closer and closer to his target, inching the underwear down slowly with his teeth. It was obvious that Ashton was enjoying this, too - his cock was slowly filling with blood and filling out the sock more and more until it was starting to press firmly against the edges. On the next orbit, Topher pulled the sock down enough so that Ashton's dick sprang free, knocking Topher on the forehead and leaving a few drops of pre-cum to slowly track down onto his cheek.
"Well, now that you've woken the monster, you've got to do your best to take care of it. I'm not going out tonight this turned on."
Although not huge, this was the first celebrity dick that Topher had choked on, and he was anxious to make sure that he was going to do it right. Slowly, calculatedly, he approached from the underside of Ashton's dick, licking up the shaft from balls to head before slowly grazing the top with a mix of teeth and lips. Because he was taking his time, it took almost three minutes to go from bottom to top. After the second pass, he grabbed Ashton's ass more firmly, massaging it with both palms and fingers. He inched one of his pointer fingers closer and closer to Ashton's asshole until -
"What the FUCK do you think you're doing, man? No one, and I mean NO ONE, does that to me. Especially not some bitch like you."
He pulled his dick out of Topher's mouth and started hitting him, first on one side of the face, then the other, repeating those words over and over again, faster and faster, louder and louder, before he tensed up, clenched, and arched his back before spraying spurts and spurts of cum all over Topher's face and hair.
"Guess you don't need mousse tonight, huh. Oh, and don't take a shower. I want you to smell me all night long. I'm going to get dressed - think you should too. We'll see what else the night has in store."
I've really enjoyed putting some of my thoughts down on paper, and your comments have given me great fodder for other celebrity fantasies. I still need to get Josh and Topher together, which will happen sometime sooner rather than later, but I love the diversions that you're suggesting. If you have any ideas, or feedback, please send them to me at rolandgardens@yahoo.com.