The following tale is a written record of thoughts running rampant in my imagination that I wish to share with the world - in other words, none of the following is true (and if it is, I don't know about it). Any personalities or entities that parallel any real individual(s) ought not be taken as factual information, but should be recognized purely as a creation of the author.
     If anyone is reading this, and alternative material is personally objective to you, or illegal in your area, immediately stop reading and leave.  If this doesn't apply to you, feel welcome to respond with praise and/or criticism (

I Got What You Need
(Part V)

Thomas Dublin

     I'm going to miss this.

     I should probably be enjoying this, but Sean is going to have an asthma attack when I tell him that Lance Bass of *NSYNC is my manager.  He may even cry; it wouldn't surprise me.

     I  figured that I may as well get a ...

     "Mmmm," whispers Sean. "I've been waiting for this dick for about a week."

     Sean practically swallows my dick in one fell swoop.  I know it's coming, but I can never get used to the feeling when Sean does that.

    His head bobs up and down like a tin tub full of apples.

    He speeds up slightly, lubricating my shaft with saliva and precum.

     Then, he pulls the head from his throat, and teases it with his mouth.

    He flickers his tongue back and forth over the slit in the head; a soft gasp escapes from my lips.

    He slides his tongue along the length, and then goes over to my nuts.

    He gently jiggles each one with his tongue before pulling the entire sack in his mouth.

     As I look down at him, he starts to hum on my nuts.

     Next to the orgasm, that has to be the next best feeling.  Sean knows how much I like that.

    When he releases my nuts and swallows the dick again, I start to feel that familiar tightening in that area.  My back arches, and my nuts contract.


    My entire body vibrates as I shoot my seed into Sean's throat.

    Sean eagerly swallows it, and laps whatever managed to escape from his mouth like a kitten lapping a saucer of milk.

*                                                                *                                                                *

    Besides being my agent and fraternity brother, Sean is a blowjob expert.  I found out about his skills the night I was initiated into the frat.  Even though he was dating a member of our "sister" sorority, he pulled me into a hallway closet in our house and showed me one of the perks of being in the fraternity.

    There were only about six of us (well, six that I know of) that were gay or bisexual; all closeted, of course.  But, we somehow found out each other, and for the two years that Sean and I were in college together (he graduated two years before me), he hooked me up at least once a week.  He may have been seen around campus with Jalisa on his arm, but after he dropped her off, he'd be in my room, on his knees.

    We were never serious as a couple.  He was bisexual, and although I'm attracted to women, I never have nor will have sex with one. Plus, he was dating Jalisa, one of the finest sistas on campus -- he wasn't about to give that up.  We were, and still are, friends and fraternity brothers who "got down" ever so often.

*                                                               *                                                           *

    Sean Osiri is a mutt.  Sean's father is a biracial corporate lawyer from England.  Mr. Adolf Osiri is half Nigerian, and half German -- but was born in Leeds, England.  He was born into a middle class interracial family that has remained relatively intact.  Mr. Osiri then came to America for his college education -- undergrad at Morehouse College in Atlanta, then a J.D. and MBA from Columbia.

    Mari-Carmen Osiri is Puerto Rican.  She actually grew up in San Juan, then moved to New York as a teenager.  She attended NYU, then met Mr. Osiri while working on her Master's degree in Social Work at Columbia.  They finished their degree programs, got married, and had two children -- Ana Maria, a BAP (Black American Princess) who lives in Hempstead with her doctor husband and two children; and Sean.

    Sean has all this mixture, yet considers himself black (as does his sister).  Even though he has two parents who were born and raised outside of America, grew up in Westchester County, attended private school all his life, and never had more than two black friends before going away to college, he identifies with "us."

    But, he did get a lot of attention for his mixture.  Girls in college loved his wavy hair and green eyes.  He got a lot of comparisons to Rick Fox (even though Sean is about my height).  But, the only thing he has in common with Rick Fox is the light skin and the European features.  Sean is asthmatic; a little introverted, and has issues with telling the entire truth.  But, he's still my friend -- well, I hope he still is, after tonight.

*                                                                *                                                                *

    "A penny for your thoughts," Sean said, cutting into my thought process.

    "Sean," I propped myself against the headboard in my bedroom. "I have some news to tell you."

    "Well," Sean started. "Can I tell you my news?"

    His news probably won't affect me nearly as severely as mine.  I nod to him.

    "Jalisa and I got engaged last night."

    I was wrong.  Oh, and did I forget to mention that he and Jalisa was still dating -- three years after they graduated? My bad!


    "We're getting married next May.  We're going to have a big wedding and..."


    "You seem upset about the news, Thomas."

    "Sean, I am VERY upset about this. For one thing, you haven't told her that you're bisexual.  Secondly, you haven't told her that you've been fooling around on the side. Then, ten minutes ago, you were an engaged man with a mouth full of dick!"

    "I know..."

    "If you know, then why don't you quit with all the lies?  I can't stand the sneaking around."

    Sean looked away from me.  I moved closer to him, and put my right arm around his shoulders.

    "Look Sean.  I never expected to have a serious relationship. You're one of my dearest friends, and one of the best lays I've ever had." He snickered a little at that comment.  "But, you can't keep up this web of deception. If you and Jalisa are going to get married, then you need to quit with all the lies."

    "I know."

    "And," I continued, "we can't do this anymore." I can't believe I just said good-bye to my PDS (Primary Dick Sucker).

    Sean looked at me with those emerald eyes. He didn't say anything, just nodded.

    "So," he finally said, "didn't you have news."

    "Yes."  How do I tell him this?

    "Good or bad?"

    "Both, in a way."


    Here we go. "I talked with some people at Jive yesterday.  They presented me with a recording contract.  A good one.  A two album deal; and I get 12 points."

    "No shit!!! Jive offered you a deal?" I nodded.  "I can't believe it!  My boy finally got on.  I guess you impressed them so much with your work with *NSYNC that they saw that they had to get a hold of you before someone else snatched you up."

    "Yeah, that and the tenacity of my... manager."

    It had to have been dead silence for about five minutes.  I looked at Sean -- his face was expressionless.  He seemed to had just picked a spot on the wall to focus on.  Then, he rose from my bed, grabbed his Adidas running pants and T-shirt.  He slipped his feet into the pants, and pulled them up to his navel.  Then, he threw the shirt on.

    "My shoes are on your side.  Pass them to me please."

    Huh?  "Huh?"

    "My shoes."

    "Is that all you have to say?  Pass my shoes?"  I reach down to the floor and pick up the red, blue, yellow, and white Adidas.  I toss him on the floor next to where he's standing.

    "Thank you," he said as he pulled his socks out of the shoes.

    "Sean," I said, "please say something."

    "So... whose you're new manager?"

    "Lance Bass."

    Suddenly, it's a little colder in this room.  "YOU LEFT ME, you left me for some white boy who thinks he can manage someone because he read a couple of textbooks!!???"

    "Well, that white boy said he'd get me a deal, and he had the Jive executives drooling over me and almost begging me to join their roster, in four days -- you couldn't even get me in with Jive in a year."

    Sean looked up as he tied his shoes.  "You knew I was working on that."

    "Well, while you were working on it, Lance made it happen.  So, until he gives me a reason to change my mind, he's going to manage me."

    Sean stood erect and looked at his hands.  "I can't believe you left me, your frat, your friend, your lover... for some pop kid."

    "Well, you never were my manager, so I technically didn't leave you.  And, I'll always be your friend.  And, in case you've forgotten, you're still my agent.  Just because I have a recording deal doesn't mean that I'm going to stop writing and producing for other artists."

    "I have to think," Sean said, as he walked out of my bedroom.

    "And you just got engaged... to a woman," I shout behind him.

    I scooted down on the bed and rolled towards the middle (and out of the wet spot). I listened for the door to shut, then allowed the darkness to envelop me.

*                                                                *                                                                    *

    I'm still processing everything that happened.  Sean's marrying Jalisa, but will he tell her about his secrets?  I told him that I won't sleep with him anymore, and then I tell him that he will not be my manager.  He gets mad, and leaves without saying good-bye or anything.  With all this, it's almost hard to relish in my deal with Jive Records.

*                                                                *                                                                *

    The phone, thankfully, awakens me from a fitful sleep.  I reach over and grab it from the console.

    "Hello. Thomas Dublin speaking."

    "What's up, boy?"

    I sit up. It's Beyonce. "What's going on, girl?"

    "Still getting ready for this tour.  Kelly is having problems hitting one of the routines, so we've been having 14-hour workdays to get it right."

    "Leave Kelly alone."

    "But, anyway... what's been going on with you?"

    "Girl, I've had the craziest two weeks..." I tell her about everything (except for the details of my conversation with Justin -- confidentiality agreement -- and the Sean incident).

    "Ooh.  You worked with *NSYNC and you got a deal with Jive.  It's about time somebody recognized."

    Beyonce is my girl.  We hit it off immediately when I went down to Houston to record some songs with them earlier this year.  We played Spades and ate Popeye's Fried Chicken almost everyday for the two weeks I spent with Destiny's Child.  I'm also friends with Kelly and Michelle, but I love me some Beyonce.
And, contrary to popular opinion, she ain't the bitch that everyone makes her out to be.  She's really one of the sweetest people in the industry.  She's probably one of the hardest working people as well, but most of that is her father -- that man is a taskmaster.
Mr. Knowles had even offered to manage me.  I was seriously considering it, until Beyonce told me that I shouldn't do it.  Now, you have to be a true friend to go against your father's plans like that.  I obviously took Beyonce's advice, and politely declined Matthew Knowles' offer.

    "So, did you find out any dirt about anyone?"

    "B., you know I can't tell -- just about every label makes me sign a confidentiality agreement."

    "C'mon, T. -- you know I won't tell."

    "Well," I probably shouldn't, but I can't leave my girl hanging, "I can't say if anyone's in * NSYNC is gay or not, but I can tell you about some other names I've heard.  I'll put it like this -- tell Kelly that her future man is looking for the same thing she's looking for."

    "WHAT!!! JIGGA'S GAY!!!!"

    I heard Kelly say `no he ain't' in the background.

    "Thomas," I hear Kelly say into the receiver, "I know you ain't spreading rumors about my baby daddy?"

    "Well, one of Sisqo's friends told me that Jay-Z stayed in Sisqo's hotel room the entire night after the VMAs. So, you can believe it or not if you want to, but this isn't the first time I've heard about the Jiggaman."

    "Damn," Kelly said, as she passed the phone back to Beyonce.

    "Did she just cuss?"

    "Man... I can't believe that one.  I mean, I almost had to go off on him because he felt my butt at the BET Awards.  Now, he's gay?"

    "Well, he could be bisexual on the down-low."

    Beyonce and I talked for another half-hour.  She still doesn't have a man, and neither do I.  Her father put her on a diet -- she has one month to lose fifteen pounds.  And, Michelle doesn't like Aaron Carter, who's going out on tour with them, along with Beyonce's sister Solange (who I produced four songs for).

    After disconnecting, I get up and head to the shower.  I allow the hot water to plummet my body for what seems like hours before picking up the loofah and the body wash.  After a quick scrubbing, I cut off the water, and grab my towel.

    As I walk out the shower, I hear the phone ringing.  I somehow manage to make it to the phone without falling.

    "Hello, Thomas Dublin speaking."

    "Hi Thomas, it's Josh."

    Josh who?


    "I was wondering if you were busy.  I had some song ideas, and I wanted to run them by you."

    Ohh... Josh, as in Joshua Chasez.

    "Um, sure.  Do you want to meet here?

    "Cool.  Oh yeah, you wouldn't happen to have any food around, would you?"

    The *NSYNC piggy; this boy either eats terrible food on the road, or really, really loves to eat.

    "I might.  What do you want?"

    "How about some of that macaroni and cheese?"

    "I'll make up a pan. How about some chicken and a sweet potato pie to go along with it?"

    "Make that and I might have to marry you.  I LOVE sweet potato pie. Big Robb's mom made one for my birthday, and I ate the whole thing by myself."

    Daaaeemmmn! "Well, I'll make two, just in case. Why don't you give me a couple hours to get dressed, and prepare the food?"

    "OK.  I'll be over at 2:00.  It's a date," he said, before hanging up.


    `I sure hope so,' I thought, as I jumped over to my closet.

To Be Continued...