Date: Tue, 22 Jul 2003 03:31:48 +0000 From: Bobby Reardon Subject: Fame Fuckfest All copyrights to the reality series Fame belong to NBC. All copyrights to Tyce and Joey Fatone belong to them. In this fictional story, they are together. In the real world, I cannot even begin to speculate on their sexuality, and do not want to. Please remember this is a fantasy and condoms are a necessity in your true sex life. OK, lecture over. I don't know if I'm going to continue this or not. If you wanna see more, or see other guys from Fame in here, then write and tell me so. I love feedback, whatever you want to say. Tight jeans. Brooding eyes with luscious lashes. Closecropped brown hair. Sideburns and a conjoined beard. Just the right amount of stubble. Exquisitely toned thighs, abs, arms. The hint of mystery in his dark features. A teen idol in the making. Just not right now. Tyce was a dancer, a dance teacher. He'd come on the new reality talent show 'Fame' as a spoiler. Never thought he had a chance to win, and he hadn't. At least he had nationwide exposure, and some friends. His weeks of intense training with the hard, young, warm bodies around him made him so horny he could hammer nails with his cock. Harlem could twist his smooth pale body into the saltiest of pretzels. Justin the rapper had a baby face and the trend of pants hanging down as far as possible frequently exposed his bubble butt in tight jockeys. Alex the blonde crooner was smoldering with jealousy for Tyce. Those sweat-glazed glares in rehearsal were always tinged with lust. Someday he would taste the cherry in that ass and pound away Alex's hostility. Tyce knew the car was waiting, but he'd gone commando today and didn't want to walk around the studio with a huge boner. On him, an erection was definitely noticeable. He winked at himself in the mirror, and got to work. Smiled and sucked his tongue while the denim snaked down his hips. Threw his head back and let his flesh stick get used to the air-conditioned dressing room. Started stroking, peeling the foreskin in quick slides as only he knew how to. Pictured Justin's sweet young potty mouth or Harlem's knowing, corrupt tongue teasing and tasting his glans. Tyce's balls hung heavy and he hefted the babymakers with his long and thin fingers, dug into the meaty balls with his nails. His other hand tortured his tits, rolling and clawing in the most delicious ways. Snuck back to his crack, sifted through all that dark curly hair, dug in deep with two fingers. He gnawed into his lower lip to keep the volume down. Almost near his climax when the door knocked. "Hey, it's Joey. Wanna talk?" Tyce gasped out a few spare thoughts as he neared his climax. He'd known Joey Fatone since his days as a tour dancer for N'SYNC. They weren't friends, but they'd been a helluva lot more than friends a few times on the road. Joey was a big bear now, but Tyce always had liked the taste of honey. "Sure, come in!" Imagine Joey's shock when he walked in, when he slammed the door behind him at warp speed. Tyce, pants around his ankles and showing off an ass round and firm enough to withstand the biggest dick, shirt hiked up to expose his smooth shaved chest and twisted, bruised nips. Pulling away at a veiny and eye/nut-poppingly long tube of meat. Every master stroke knew Tyce made knew where to go, what to do to please him. His balls were eggs waiting to hatch their cum, drawing higher and higher. Joey sputtered like a sitcom neighbor. His thick chub had leaked out a welcome before his mouth ever got into action. "Somebody could walk in here!" Tyce just smacked his bare, phat ass. "Then lock the door, shuck those pants down, and fuck me quick before I have to go ask for volunteers." Joey knew it was wrong, on so many levels. He had a family at home and a new career in TV to worry about. But when Tyce spread his legs, bent over, opened his well-used, begging assmouth, what could Joey say? Nothing. His only option was to follow Tyce's commands. His beefy legs smacked against each other and his eyes melded shut from the sweat. Tyce popped open his dress shirt from behind to make sure that hairy, chubby chest of Joey's branded his smooth back in painful pleasurable scrapes. Joey dropped to his knees, giving in to all those vices he'd tried to get away from, just to taste a man's smell and private scent one more time, one last time. Tyce's satisfied, smug purrs drove Joey on, spurred him into slamming all 6 1/2 inches deep in Tyce's gullet. Tyce cried out into Joey's ripe mouth. Of all the men - and there were quite a few - Tyce had sampled, Joey had the widest cock he'd ever been plugged into. It was a veritable beast of burder hanging between his thighs. Joey savagely thrust into the contorting hole. Tyce milked this stallion for all he was worth, and Joey pumped him in return. Their limbs were entangled and strained, while Joey thumped Tyce's head into the wall, his lower mushroom head drooling into the cheap couch cushions. Tyce couldn't last long and his massive eruption triggered a deep clamp onto Joey's sensitive donkey-prong. Joey screamed his curses into Tyce's ear, Tyce mewling and whispering in a language all his own. And they laid down, Joey heavy on top of and deep inside his lover, able but unwilling to tear away. They kissed and touched, and for just those few moments, the world was theirs.