Bad Smut II

By Zaen

“Ok, guys, let's get this show on the road!” Wade said enthusiastically as he cracked his neck and did some deep knee bends. “You guys want *Nsync to kick ass at the VMAs like you did last year, right?”

“Fuckin’ A!”

“No doubt!”

“Yes, sir!”

“You know it, cat!”

“I don't want to lick anyone's ass!”

Joey, Justin, Lance, JC and Wade all turned to look at Chris.

“Dude. Did you get into the Elmer's glue again?” asked Justin. Chris shook his head vigorously.

“Sorry, guys. I'm just not awake yet, I guess.”

“Chris, you silly boy,” Lance remarked with a smile. After a nice laugh the five members of *Nsync went about learning Wade's newest choreography, Chris’s outburst quickly forgotten. But Chris could barely pay attention because, indeed, he did want to lick someone’s ass. And it wasn't his ex-girlfriend’s. His eyes fell on the soft yet firm pillows of flesh that called themselves buttocks. Joey’s buttocks. They swayed to and fro and contracted and released as their owner aped Wade’s demanding steps in the air-conditioned dance studio.

“No, no, Chris, you’re doing that part wrong,” Wade huffed impatiently. “It’s thrust, thrust, kick, thrust, squat, arm, arm, grapevine, thrust, THEN crotch grab! Joey, show the old man how it’s done.” Joey smiled bashfully and proceeded to do the steps perfectly. Chris couldn’t take his eyes off his graceful bandmate. Especially since said bandmate was going commando that day, and with each gyration, his little soldier was marching to a tune of its own in his cargo shorts.

“Looking good, Joe!” Justin squealed as he enjoyed Joey’s performance. “Looking good!”

“Yeah, well, I could do that, too,” JC mumbled, his face turning red, his heart unexpectedly turning green. Justin punched JC lightly in the arm and smiled broadly at him.

“I know you could…Big Daddy.” A shiver ran down JC’s spine, goosebumps covered his bare, muscled arms, and somewhere in the depths of his tight, blindingly multicolored designer pants, something stirred. JC stared back into Justin’s sweet, blue eyes, and blushed.

“Alright, let’s take it from the top!” Wade commanded. The music cued, he led the five pop stars through the routine for the new remix of “Pop,” the version they would be performing at the upcoming MTV Video Music Awards, the version Wade and Justin had remixed by themselves all night in Wade’s basement recording studio. The version JC hated. Chris liked the song fine, but just couldn’t seem to pick up the steps with his usual facility. But then, Joey had never worn such a tight wifebeater in rehearsal before. And he’d never undulated his hips with such force before. And his muscles never seemed to flex quite so temptingly before. And the tops of his buttocks had never peeked out over his shorts when he bent over before. And his velvety brown treasure trail—

“Hey! Pay attention, numbnuts!” Wade scolded a daydreaming Chris. “We’ve only got two weeks until the VMA’s, so you’ve gotta learn this new routine ASAFP!”

“Who you calling numbnuts?” Chris barked, quickly snapping out of his lust-filled reverie. “I was dancing before you were an itch in your daddy’s boxer-briefs!”

“Puh-leaze! Without me, you guys’ moves would be as cheesy as the Backstreet Boys!”

“Hey, c’mon now,” Joey said, laughing nervously and standing between Chris and Wade. “If you two don’t kiss and make up, I’ll have to give you both a spanking.”

“I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you, Chrissy?” Wade sneered. Chris sneered back, but the phrase You’re damn skippy went through his head.

“Why don’t you throw another shrimp on the barbie and kiss my ass!” Chris snarled and headed for the door.

“Hey! Chris, stop!” Joey caught up with his buddy and gently pulled on his arm. “What’s gotten into you, man? You know Wade’s always a bitch when he’s trying to grow facial hair.” Joey put his arm around Chris’ shoulder in a friendly gesture. “Don’t sweat the kid, bro. He hasn’t gotten laid in 3 days. He must be dying. I know I would be.”

“Right,” Chris chuckled, then shivered at the feel of Joey’s breath near his ear. “I’ve just been in a foul mood lately.” Joey cocked his head and met Chris’ somewhat sad eyes.

“Then I’ll have to cheer you up later, won’t I?” It sounded innocent enough, but Chris thought—hoped—he heard something else in that comment. He stared back into Joey’s sweet, brown eyes, and blushed.

“If you two are finished talking about me over there, can we get back to work?” Wade hissed as he eyed himself in the mirrored wall and played with the one hair emanating from his chin.

“Why don’t we take a break,” Lance cut in quickly. “I think we could all use one.”

“Yeah, thanks, man,” Chris sighed and stomped out the door with Joey right behind him. Justin and JC raced each other to their water bottles, only to trip on the slick hardwood floor and fall on top of each other, giggling like teenies. Wade mumbled something under his breath like “*Ensync sounds better than *Nsync” and headed for the men’s room. Lance walked over to the mirrored wall, stared into his own sweet, green eyes, and blushed.

Chris laid flat on his back and stared up at his hotel room ceiling. He tried to think about all the shit he had to do, the personal appearances he had scheduled, the grueling concert tour, and most important of all, what color he wanted to dye his hair next. But every time he tried to concentrate, he was distracted by thoughts. Thoughts about smiling chocolate eyes…juicy lips…biceps, triceps, and gluteus maximuses. Thoughts that both disturbed and excited him. Thoughts that he just knew would never be appreciated by his favorite bandmate…any of his bandmates. Well, maybe Lance.

“Ugh, now what?” he sighed as he reluctantly pulled himself off his comfy bed to answer the knocking at his door.

“Hey, man!” It was Joey, with Lance right beside him. And two large paper bags.

“What’s this? I thought you guys were gonna go out tonight,” Chris said as he gazed at Joey’s new blonde highlights, and wondered what his hair would look like dyed the exact same color.

“We’re here to cheer you up!” Lance said gleefully, closing the door behind him. He sat down on the bed and emptied the bags of their contents; three 40 oz bottles of the nastiest malt liquor known to man, pop rocks, Mad Libs, 3 of the 5 *Nsync dolls, and 2 *Nsync fan Barbies.

“What in the name of the Beastie Boys is all this?” Chris asked as he picked up the box containing the Chris doll. “We having a slumber party tonight? Gonna make prank phone calls?”

“Yeah, we’re gonna play ‘light as a feather, stiff as a board,’ right?” Lance laughed.

“Right,” Chris sighed, looking at Joey out of the corner of his eye and thinking that he didn’t know about the feather part, but he could definitely guarantee the other one.

“I just thought we could be silly and have some nice, clean fun,” Joey said to Chris as he sat on the bed. “You’ve been so sad lately…I just wanted to do something nice for ya.” Chris was touched by his friend’s consideration. It was one of the many things he lo—liked about Joey.

“That’s cool,” was all Chris could manage to utter as the overhead light caused Joey’s eyes and teeth to sparkle like a perfect ice sculpture. A singing, dancing, muscle-bound, oversexed ice sculpture. “Where are JC and Justin?”

“Haven’t got a clue,” Lance said as he struggled with the cap on his forty. “Can someone open this for me? I don’t want to ruin my manicure.”

“No Hard Lemon tonight?” Chris joked as he opened Lance’s drink of choice for the night, grimacing when he read the alcohol content.

“Nah, I thought I’d try something different,” Lance sighed as he leisurely stretched out on the bed next to Joey. “Besides, what’s the worst that can happen?”

JC sat on the end of his bed tapping his foot nervously. Then he chewed on his thumbnail. Then he tapped his foot again. Then he jumped to his feet and half-heartedly did a dance routine from two tours ago, swerving his hips and mouthing the words as if he had an audience. The other guys always chided him for doing that in public, but he didn’t care. He knew he looked cool doing it, just like he knew his clothes were cool. But this time he was doing it for a reason; to release nervous energy. He was incredibly anxious, and he needed to keep his hands and feet busy. Anything to keep his mind off of what he’d just witnessed.

***begin flashback***

“Justin, you wanna do something tonight?” JC asked softly as he tapped on the door from the hotel suite to Justin’s private room. He heard Justin’s voice behind the door, but couldn’t quite hear what he was saying. So he pushed the door open quietly. “Just—” JC started to say, but he quickly shut up when he saw Justin sitting on his bed with 2 dolls. On closer observation, he saw that they were the JC and Justin *Nsync dolls. And they were missing their fashionable doll clothes.

“Justin, you’re sooooooo beautiful,” Justin made the JC doll say to the Justin doll. Outstretched plastic arms caressed hard plastic torso. “I wish I were as beautiful as you are,” doll JC continued, in a slightly nasal tone that made the real JC wonder if that was how he really sounded.

“You do?” doll Justin asked excitedly.

“Yes, Justin. You are the hottest pop star in the entire universe!” doll JC said wantonly, moving in closer to its naked friend. “And you’re the best ball player…the best dancer…the best friend…and you write way better songs than me!”

“Oh, Josh! I’m nothing special at all. My ears are so big!” doll Justin sighed sadly.

“No…they’re perfect. You’re perfect. And I just know Crossover Dribble will be perfect!” And that’s when Justin proceeded to make the dolls kiss…by knocking their little plastic heads together and making smooching sounds. JC watched with wide eyes, unable to believe the sight before him. He could barely contain a gasp as his plastic counterpart’s head traveled down doll Justin’s body while whispering, “Mmmm…you taste so good…just like peach cobbler!”

“Ohhhh…right there, Josh…I like it like that!” doll Justin squealed as its head moved from side to side, courtesy of Justin’s fingers, and it fell on it’s back. Justin giggled to himself, unaware of his audience just a few yards away.

“Justin…I must have you, my darling. I want to enter you with my big plastic weedwhacker!” JC had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing.

“But Josh…we’re both straight as an arrow!” the Justin doll sighed as its little arms pushed the lust-filled JC doll away. “Shouldn’t we torture ourselves for these homoerotic feelings for a few months before we surrender to the love that dare not speak its name?”

“Justin…give up that plastic booty, baby!” JC doll said deeply.

“Yes sir!” doll Justin squealed. The real Justin giggled wickedly as he placed doll Justin on all fours. “See anything you like, daddy?”

“Yeah!” doll JC said, slapping its plastic hand on doll Justin’s backside and taking position—molded, anatomically incorrect lump to flat, barely there bottom. “I’m gonna rip that ass up like a paper shredder!”

“Aaaaargh!” JC shrieked unable to contain his hysterics any longer. Justin jumped to his feet and instantly turned red from head to toe.

“Josh…I…I—”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” JC mumbled as he quickly backed up and raced out the door, fleeing before Justin had time to catch up with him.

***end flashback***

JC started to pace. He didn’t know what to do. Had Justin just been pretending, or was he acting out some ongoing desire to make whoopee with me, he thought. He couldn’t get the image of their synthetic doubles writhing about, with Justin contributing the libidinous soundtrack. Could it be…did Justin actually…want him? JC shook his head, dismissing the thought as soon as it appeared.

“Get yourself together, man!” JC mumbled to himself, slapping his forehead as he went to his room. “He’ll never want me…like I want him,” he sighed and decided to call it a night. A long, hot shower was just what the love doctor prescribed.

“Wow, I’ve never seen Lance this messed up before,” Joey said, burping, as he and Chris watched Lance from the comfort of Chris’s bed. Lance was a few yards away, nursing his half empty 40, and dancing and singing to the radio playing…in his head.

“Like a virgin…touched for the very first tiiiiiiimmme,” he crooned falsetto, swiveling his hips and running his hands seductively up and down his chest.

“Whew! You go, boy!” Chris yelled as he chugged his liquor and swung a fan Barbie around by her hair.

“Like a vi-ir-ir-ir-gin…when your heart beats…in my pants!” Chris and Joey burst out laughing, but the laughter turned to whoops and hollers as Lance drunkenly began to remove his shirt.

“Take it off!” Joey squealed and clapped. Chris suppressed the urge to make the same request to the Italian one.

“Whooa oahh…ahhhhh,” Lance sang as he licked his fingertips and squeezed his large pink chest buttons. Chris and Joey froze, mouths open, in mid-holler. Lance snorted, picked up the abandoned Joey and Chris dolls, and proceeded to rub their tiny plastic faces all over his leather-clad ass.

“Dude!” Joey screamed. “Lance is freaky-deaky!”

“Who knew?” Chris laughed. “Forty ounces of cheap malt liquor, and Lance has become…become—”

“ME!” Joey screamed, as Chris and Lance screeched “Joey” simultaneously.

“Voulez-vous couchez avec moi, ce soir?” Lance sang, dancing now in front of his two astonished bandmates while acquainting their diminutive plastic doubles with his nether regions. “Coochie-choocie blah blah blah blah…mocha tokie Yo-Yo Ma Ma!”

“What I wouldn’t give for a camcorder right now,” Chris chuckled, shaking his head.

“Lance, man…you’re taking after JC,” Joey declared, eyes glued to his inebriated friend’s swerving hips. Indeed, Lance had fallen victim (or victor?) to the performance-induced stiffy.

“Mocha grandé half-caf latté…Creole Lady Marmalaaaaaaaaade!” growled Lance deeply, so deeply that Chris and Joey swore they could feel their friend’s bass voice vibrating the bed. Lance smiled wickedly at his bewildered friends, and slowly started unbuttoning his tight pants.

“Hello!” Chris shrieked, completely unprepared for the striptease ensuing.

“Voulez-vous couchez avec moi,” Lance said, rather than sang, as he stood before his friends, nimble fingers on buttons. “You know what that means, don’t you?”

“Lance…are you having an allergic reaction to those leather pants?” Chris asked, trying not to look at the good Southern boy’s quickly appearing dark blonde route of riches. “Do you need a cortisone shot or something?”

“I need a shot alright,” Lance purred, and in one fell swoop, the leathers were on the floor. “Who wants to give it to me?” Chris’ jaw dropped. His first thought was Doesn’t anyone around here wear underwear besides me? The second was Boing! The boy had serious endowments, and the smug look on Lance’s face was evidence that he knew it, too.

“Do…do you have to register that as a lethal weapon?” Chris joked, shrinking backwards on the bed like a frightened animal. “Do you have to use a ruler or a yardstick to measure that thing?” Chris couldn’t take his eyes off Lance’s great white whale. “I had no idea, did you, Joey? Joe?” Chris finally tore his eyes away from the massive meat muscle with a pop singer attached, only to find Joey standing up and undoing his pants. Chris tried to speak, but his tongue suddenly became swollen, just like another part of his anatomy.

“You thin you can beat dis?” Lance slurred, circling his hips so his bully club flapped about uncontrollably. Doesn’t that hurt? Chris wondered.

“I don’t know, man. That’s pretty impressive…but, I think you may want to take a gander at this,” Joey said proudly as he dropped trou and freed his willy.

“That aint even—daaaaaaammmnnn,” Lance meowed as he gazed upon Joey’s acreage of wood. Chris didn’t want to look, and at the same time, he couldn’t tear his eyes away. “Where you been hiding that? That’s like…like…a Hickory Farms wet dream!”

“You likee?” Joey asked with a toothy grin as he removed his shirt and boxers.

“Me likee!” Lance said as he stepped out of the leather pants puddled around his ankles and approached Joey with a huge grin on his face. “En garde!” he grunted, grabbing his baloney pony by the base, holding it like a weapon. Joey followed suit, and suddenly two-fifths of the world’s biggest band were engaged in a sword fight. Chris looked blankly at the bottle in his hands, half expecting the label to read “contains PCP.”

“Tee hee hee,” Lance giggled as his and Joey’s hard-shell rock lobsters smashed together over and over. Joey looked just as pleased as Lance, and Chris had had enough.

“Great. Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dick,” Chris muttered under his breath as he tried unsuccessfully to look away from the flesh fencing display. Joey quickly noticed Chris’s change in demeanor.

“Chris, man, why don’t you get in on this action?” Joey asked, winking and wiggling his eyebrows, as Lance poked him in the stomach with his two-fisted trouser snake. Chris fidgeted on the bed, meat and potatoes tight in his pants.

“I don’t know man. I wouldn’t want to disturb your…fun,” Chris mumbled.

“But, Chris—”

“Maybe the old man can’t handle it!” Lance taunted pompously as he brandished his sword. “Maybe we’re too much man for him. Maybe he’s afraid of hangin’ with these whopping sides of beef, ‘cause all he got is a Vienna sausage!” Lance laughed. Normally Chris would have made a classic smartass comeback, but instead he just smiled. He calmly stood up and unzipped his fly.

“I got your Vienna sausage right here.” Lance passed out.

JC stepped out of the shower and gently began to dry himself with a plush hotel towel. His fingertips were nearly shriveled; he’d stayed in way too long. He was still preoccupied with thoughts of Justin. It had been a habit of his over the years—thinking about Justin while he was in the shower…in his bed…on the tourbus…on stage…on top of groupies. He always attributed it to a long-lasting friendship and an unspoken competitive drive. That, and Justin’s tight ass.

“Forget it! Just forget it!” JC repeated to himself as his hands traveled over his hard, wet body. He walked through the steam to the vanity mirror and made a small space in the condensation so he could see himself. “You’re such a wuss,” he mumbled to his reflection. He thought for a second about what might have happened if he’d stayed and faced Justin. Maybe he could have asked Justin to explain just what in the hell he was doing with those dolls. Maybe he could have confessed his true feelings to Justin. Maybe he could have tenderized Justin’s meat.

“Hee hee hee…meat.” JC chuckled and smiled at himself. He dropped the towel to the floor and looked at his partially obscured nude reflection in the mirror. He was proud of his tight abs, his well-built chest, and his muscular arms. He turned a bit so he could have a look at the Chasez buns of plenty. He was pleased. The legs weren’t bad either, a little skinny, but what was between them more than made up for that. And now it was twitching. All that Justin stuff before had gotten to him, no doubt about it. He’d managed to withstand it in the shower, but now, there was no avoiding it—he was born to hand jive.

“Mmmmm,” he sighed deeply, staring at himself as his hands traveled all over his soft skin. He toyed with his shriveled nipples and watched, fascinated, as his tonsil tickler trembled and swelled. He closed his eyes, leaned his head back, and let his fingers do the walking…down across his flat, hard abs, flirting briefly with the navel, through the thicket of damp curlies, and finally to their ultimate destination: Big Josh. JC licked his lips as he wrapped his long fingers around the redwood and began stroking long and slow. He opened his legs wider, planting his feet firmly to the linoleum, and continued with his tried and true knuckle shuffle. You put your right hand up, you put your right hand down, you put your left hand up and your shake it all around. He’d written about it in a song, “Fool for Pocket Pool,” but he was too embarrassed to show it to the guys. So he settled on saving it for the solo album.

He opened his eyes to find the mirror clearing up, reflecting even more of his taut, glistening body. He smiled at himself. I’m fucking hot, he thought. He cleared his throat and dared to say it aloud. “I…I’m…fucking…hot. I’m fucking hot!” JC exclaimed, full of self-esteem and bravado, his hands full of self-love and machismo. And, now, stickiness. He pumped his man milk maker even harder, causing his huevos to draw up and his rancheros to leak all over his hand. “Yeah, baby,” he moaned as he watched the loose bullets escape from his gun, wondering how Justin would look in a similar situation. What he would sound like…taste like. Josh looked around in the steam nervously and blushed as he brought his slick fingers to his lips. He giggled and quickly tasted himself before he could lose his nerve.

“I’m hot, AND I’m kinky!” JC whispered as he tightened his grip on his thickness and quickened his pace. He was quite pleased with himself. “Look at you…you’re so damn hot,” he whispered to himself, wishing it was a certain fuzzy headed singer who was saying it instead. “Eminem can kiss my ass!” he gasped as he alternated hands on his ramrod, stroking fish with the left and the chips with the right, and then switching. “I’m the fuckin’ man,” he snorted, hips undulating, wet hair dripping on shoulders, tight ass and thighs flexing. “Yeah, Josh…that’s it…grease that pole, baby. Ice that cake. Throw that pot in the kiln, baby!” JC moaned, eyes fixed on his hands on his hard butter churner, the butter trickling all over him. Overhanded. Underhanded. Double overhanded-cross over with a twist. He was completely enthralled, so much so that he could tune out the entire world…or at least, everything up to 10 feet away from him.

“Yeah…fuck,” he sighed, tugging expertly at his throbbing Jacemaker, so hard it nearly stood perpendicular to the ground. “Mmmm…Jus…” he groaned, massaging the dangling participles as he kept up his rhythm to the metronome in his head. He was close. That familiar feeling started to build, familiar from his childhood when he’d lock himself in the bathroom…from his teens when he’d lock himself in his bedroom…from his adulthood when he’d lock himself in his hotel room, saying he was sleeping, with a bottle of lotion and one of Justin’s bandanas.

“Aw, yeah,” he moaned, his hands moving in a blur. “So good…how could…uh…how could he not want this?” JC gasped, nearly there. “How could Justin not want a piece of this?”

“But I do.” JC shrieked as he looked up, his heart beating nearly out of his chest, frozen by fear, except for his hands. He was too far gone to stop whacking off just because he felt like having a heart attack. And it was just as well, because out of the thinning steam came Justin. JC met his eyes in the mirror’s reflection, and nearly screamed again. He was naked, he could tell. Even though all he could see was his face, he knew.

“Jus—”

“Turn around, Josh,” Justin said sexily. JC did as he was told. He turned slowly, eyes on the ground, totally embarrassed. When his eyes traveled up to Justin’s nether regions, it was all over. The sight alone of Justin’s fruit selection was enough to send him over the edge. And what a selection. Ripened plums, full and juicy. And the piece de resistance, a thick, pulsating, full-size, ready to be plucked banana. By the looks of it, Justin had been peeling it all along.

“Jus…Just…ooooooohhhh,” JC groaned as he fell back against the wall and let go, jettisoning his cargo all over his stomach and hands. He slid to the floor as he convulsed and spent his spunk savings, all the while being watched lustfully by Justin. The younger man leaned over JC, his hands quick on his rump roaster.

“Josh…I’m gonna…will you…please…” Justin moaned, curling his fingers in JC’s hair and aiming his throat coater at JC’s trembling lips. JC looked up at his friend, and smiled.

“Oh, Justin. I’d love to—” And he ended up taking it in the eye.

“I guess I showed him!” Chris grunted proudly, pointing to the unconscious Lance in a heap on the floor. “The first sight of my trusty lusty telescope never ceases to amaze the feebleminded,” he laughed heartily.

“That’s…um…it…wow,” Joey stammered, looking nervously from Chris’ eyes, to the floor, to Chris’s cricket bat, and back again. Chris didn’t know whether to be happy or freaked out. Joey looked like he had seen a Martian…or a Martian schlong.

“Joey?”

“It’s um…well, I’ll say it. You beat me, dude!” Joey said, laughing, but with a more serious look on his face. “No doubt about it,” he sighed, eyes glued to the tenderloin emanating from Chris’s comparably small body.

“I didn’t know we were competing,” Chris grumbled, the smile disappearing from his face. He motioned to tuck himself back into his pants, but Joey stopped him.

“Wait! Don’t…don’t,” Joey said quickly, moving to stand in front of his bandmate. Chris felt a blush cover his entire body as he watched Joey watching his bits and pieces. “Dude,” Joey sighed, finally looking into Chris’s eyes, “it’s magnificent. I’m in awe.”

“Th-thanks,” Chris mumbled, suddenly very shy, even though he was at least still half dressed. Joey was drunk, naked, and, after that swordfight, resembling a national monument about the midsection.

“You get good mileage on that thing?” Joey joked, coming closer.

“Haven’t had any complaints yet.”

“I thought I had good wood, but, man…you got a whole forest!”

“Joe—”

“Don’t,” Joey whispered, pushing Chris’s trembling hands away from his zipper. “Chris, man, that thing deserves a cape with a big ‘S’ on it,” Joey said slyly as he stepped closer still, face to face, chest to chest, toe to toe, joystick to joystick with the older man. Chris swallowed hard and tried not to look down.

“Uh…yeah…well, you know, able to freak tall beauties in a single bound,” Chris laughed nervously. He stopped laughing altogether when he felt a hand on his rocket launcher.

“Can you freak me in a single bound?” Joey whispered in Chris’ ear as he gently caressed Chris’ flagpole to full attention. Chris could hardly believe what was going on, that this wasn’t yet another highly lucid sex dream.

“I…think you’re smashed,” Chris muttered, eyes closing, head swimming as Joey sucked on his earlobe.

“So are you,” whispered Joey as he deftly freed Chris of his clothes before the older man could say another word. “Great excuse, don’t cha think?” he whispered, pushing Chris on his back on the bed, hovering over him immodestly. “I been wanting to do this for a long time.”

“Wow,” Chris gasped. And then Joey kissed him, and Chris said it again. “Damn, Joe. I had no idea you were gay.”

“I’m not gay. I’m heterosexually challenged.”

JC turned off the faucet, having finally rinsed all the Timberjuice from his eye. Justin stood next to him, biting his lip and shifting his weight.

“You…you got some in your…um, hair,” Justin mumbled, pointing to what appeared to be blonde streaks in JC’s disheveled mane. JC cringed, twisted the faucets back on, and dipped his head once again, letting the water splash his entire head before coming back up. He took the towel Justin held out to him, mumbled thanks and dried off.

“Sorry about that,” Justin half-mumbled, half-laughed.

“Yeah,” JC grunted, looking down at his feet. An extremely long and uncomfortable silence ensued, one in which they both tried to ignore that they were totally naked…and half-hard again. “Justin…what were you doing in my bathroom?”

“Watching you,” Justin replied, looking bashfully at his hands.

“Watching me take a shower?” JC whispered, looking quickly at Justin’s face, then back to the floor. “Isn’t that a little weird?”

“Josh, I just came in your eye. If that isn’t weird, I don’t know what is.”

“Owwww.”

“What? What did I do?”

“Beardburn.”

“Oh,” Joey laughed. “I’ll try to be more careful,” he mumbled, smiling, as he featherkissed Chris’ stomach.

“No…um…I kinda liked that.” Wide smiles, and then more kissing, more touching, more dry humping.

“Finally!” Joey moaned, sitting up when he heard someone at the main door. “I ordered that room service light years ago,” he sighed, jumping to the floor and pulling on his pants.

“Lemme guess—jello?” Chris asked with a raised eyebrow. Joey smiled and kissed his friend on the nose.

“Be right back,” he cooed, then left to the outer room. Chris smiled and dove under the covers, suddenly aware of the goosepimples all over his arms. Just because of the air conditioning, he thought. Sure, air conditioning. He rolled on his side and closed his eyes, waiting for his lover—lover?—to return. Soon enough he felt the bed move and two strong arms surround him from behind.

“Hey,” Chris groaned, pulling the arms tighter around his waist. “The jello can wait.” Chris smiled as the arms around him moved up around his face. Then he felt silky material over his eyes. “What the—Joey, you freak.” But he allowed the makeshift blindfold to be tied snugly to his face. And he let himself be pushed onto his back.

“Did you just watch 9 ½ weeks or something?” Chris asked, but was quieted by a finger on his lips and lips on his hoo-hoo. “Ooooohhhh,” he sighed, reaching down for some contact, but his hands were brought firmly down to his sides, and held there. “Aw, c’mon, man,” Chris sighed, but quickly gave in to the professional playing of his peter piper. “You’ve definitely done this before,” Chris sighed, intending to follow that with a laugh, but it came out a long purr. Damn, he thought as his manhood sank further into wet dampness, I wonder how long he’s been doing this? How many guys has he been with? I had no idea his tongue was that long! Chris giggled and struggled against the hands holding his down. “No fair, man! I wanna see,” he groaned, partly out of frustration, partly out of desire, partly because he was getting the best hoovering of his life. “You’re amazing,” he sighed. “Girls usually…you know…forget about the ‘taint.”

“I agree,” a voice whispered in Chris’ ear.

“Um…Joey?” Chris gulped.

“Good guess.” The blindfold came off, and Chris looked up to find Joey standing over him with the silky cloth in his hand. Chris gulped as he looked down in his lap to find Lance in mid-suck.

“I…I…thought that was you!” Chris squeaked.

“Yeah, riffft,” Lance growled, mouth full. “You knewd it waf me, Christhhhhh!”

“Oh, shit!” Chris sighed, shrugging his shoulders. “Sorry, Joe.”

“Dude, I don’t mind,” Joey giggled, “but, um, did you have to use my boxers for a blindfold? Ewww!”

“So, Justin, what was up with those dolls?”

“I was just playing, man,” Justin replied nervously. After another long silence, he asked, “Soooo…what now, C?”

“I don’t know,” mumbled JC, covering himself with the towel, and trying to pretend like he wasn’t covering himself with the towel. “What…what do you want to do, Justin?” he asked softly, daring to look the object of his affection in the eye. Justin dared to look back.

“I…I…I want you to…kiss me.” JC could barely keep the smile from his face.

“Sure?” But JC was coming anyway. Justin nodded his head as his eyes closed. Nose to nose, JC tilted his head and gently pressed his trembling lips to Justin’s. It was a short kiss, a sweet, practically innocent kiss, but it was enough to send the blood running to all the right places. JC sighed as his bandmate wrapped his strong arms around his waist and pulled him even closer, stabbing his mouth with his teendream tongue. JC stabbed back and thought about what else he’d like to stick in Justin’s mouth.

“Damn, your mouth is pure heaven,” Justin whispered as their lips finally parted. JC smiled bashfully as Justin kissed his cheek and murmured in his ear. “Lance was right!”

“Wha—what?”

“Ha ha, got you,” Justin laughed before pulling JC into a long, slow kiss. JC unclenched his jaw and relaxed into Justin’s arms, congratulating himself for being able to take a joke, for once. Yeah, Lance wouldn’t know shit about my mouth, he thought. Now, Joey on the other hand…

“Mmmmmm,” Justin sighed as he came up for air. He looked deeply into his co-worker’s eyes. “Man. You’re so damn…beautiful,” he whispered as he traced JC’s mouth with 2 fingers. “Your eyes are like the deepest, bluest ocean.”

“Sweetie,” JC purred, “your eyes are like the heavens above, protective, loving, and infinite.”

“Your eyes are like the rich, warm earth,” Chris sighed as he gazed at the Italian lying next to him. Joey smiled, eyes crinkling up and shimmering as Chris’s hand traveled down to his lap.

“Chris, man,” Joey said, gazing back, “your eyes are like big…brown…M&Ms!” Chris smiled and leaned in to kiss Joey, but was interrupted when the man lying on his other side cleared his throat. Chris jokingly rolled his eyes and turned his head.

“Lance?” Chris whispered, then kissed the blonde reassuringly. “What is it?”

“Ummm,” Lance groaned, sloppily kissing Chris back to the best of his shit-faced ability. “Your eyes are like…like,” he stammered and pulled back, gazing at Chris intently. “Like…the pellets in the bottom of my ferret’s cage.”

“I’d kick your ass to the curb,” Chris sighed, pushing the giggling Lance away, “if you didn’t give the best penilingus east of the Mississippi!”

“The best, huh?” Joey grunted, then pulled Chris on his side to face him. “We’ll just see about that.” Chris watched the top of Joey’s head as it inched further and further down his chest. Lance spooned the eldest vocal group member and pressed his everlasting everlong up against Chris’s assteriors.

“Joey can’t swab the knob like I can,” Lance mumbled into Chris’s ear.

“Oh yeah?” Joey quipped, looking up to glare at the blonde. “Your eyes are like pools of deep…green…piss!”

“Justin, wait,” JC groaned, his body lodged between Justin’s and the bathroom wall, their salamis pressed together like magnets. He pulled Justin’s hand away, the one reaching for Big Josh, and took a deep breath.

“What’s wrong?” Justin asked with fear and longing in his voice.

“I just…I don’t want to be an…experiment…for you,” JC said lowly, looking down at the floor.

“Josh, look at me,” Justin whispered, lifting JC’s chin. “You could never…never…be just an experiment for me,” he said before kissing the older man’s tender neck. “Never.”

“Ok,” JC said with a smile as he led Justin into his bedroom. Justin smiled back and thought, Now, Joey on the other hand…

“Damnnnnnn, Joe,” Chris meowed, arching his back as Joey deep throated him and Lance looked on critically. Joey smiled at Chris and gave Lance the finger.

“That’s awfully mature,” Lance snorted, then took another swig of his malt liquor and placed the bottle on the floor. “I’m still the best. Ask anyone.”

“Slut,” Joey grunted, then reattached his mouth to Chris’ Pittsburgh slugger.

“I know you are but what am I?”

“Now, now, children, don’t fight,” Chris said, trying not to smile too much, but failing. “There’s enough Chris to go around,” he sighed, looking down at Joey’s tongue licking him like a popsicle.

“How far does Chris like to go?” Lance groaned. Chris started to speak, but his breath caught in his throat when he felt Lance’s fingers delve in between his back buns. “Tell me, tell me…babeeeeeee,” Lance laughed as he teased Chris’s leather cheerio with his fingertips. Joey noticed that Chris was distracted, and interrupted his expert head job to investigate.

“Hey…what’s going on? Why is the attention no longer on me and my mouth?”

“Ahem,” Chris sighed, winking at Joey and then turning to face Lance. “Lance seems to be implying that he would like to digitally manipulate my manhole,” Chris said matter-of-factly. “Isn’t that right, Lance?” Lance froze, turned red, and thought about it a second.

“Um.” He hesitated, then saw Joey smirking at him. “Sure! I’m a stud, I’m not afraid!” He leaned into whisper to Chris. “Dude, you haven’t had any fiber today, have you?”

JC fell on the bed and pulled Justin on top of him. He sucked Justin’s agile tongue into his mouth greedily, like a man deprived of sex for a decade. Well, two weeks, but that’s like a decade in boyband years.

“Aw, C,” Justin groaned as he ground his thang slowly against JC’s thang.

“Baby,” JC murmured, “I like to be called Josh while being intimate,” he sighed, playing with Justin’s nipples.

“Um, ok,” Justin groaned, not really paying attention.

“It makes me feel like you really care about me, not the pop star, but little old me, ya know?” JC continued as he sucked on Justin’s ear and caressed his chiseled stomach.

“Uh-huh,” Justin growled, eyelids fluttering.

“I feel so close to you right now, Justin,” JC whispered, then, finally, took Big Justin into his hands.

“Yes…oh, C…I mean, oh, Josh,” Justin moaned as he thrust into JC’s hand.

“You want me to play this trumpet like Louis Armstrong?” JC demanded, kneading Justin’s meat.

“Fuck, yes…blow my trumpet, baby!” Justin whimpered. JC pushed him on his back and proceeded to kiss his way down Justin’s body. He tasted divine, and JC savored every inch of Justin as he went down. When he reached his destination, he pushed Justin’s thighs apart and looked up at the younger man.

“Justin…I’m going to eat you now.” Justin bit his bottom lip to keep from screaming when he felt JC’s lips on him.

“Shiiiiiiiit…oh…yes, Josh,” whispered the fuzzy one as he watched the spazzy one suck his chunk into his mouth. He tucked JC’s longish hair behind his ear so he could see better. “That’s so good, baby,” he cooed. He shuddered as his nimrod leaked all over JC’s lips. “Oh, God…Josh…I…I…” he whimpered, then pulled JC up into a deep kiss.

“Can you taste yourself on me?” JC asked as they sucked each other’s lips.

“Yes, Josh,” Justin groaned and wrapped his legs around JC. “This feels too good, Josh,” he sighed as they ground each other harder and faster. “I don’t…I don’t want to stop.”

“What are you saying, Justin?” JC asked, stopping and looking deep into Justin’s infinite heaven of eyes.

“Josh…I don’t want just one night…I don’t want that,” Justin said as he caressed JC’s sweet face. “I need you, Josh. I want a real, committed relationship with you,” he sighed, his lip quivering. “I want to be with you…in every way. I want you, Josh.”

“Oh, baby,” JC muttered, a lump the size of his sex machine in his throat. “That’s what I want, too, honey,” he whispered before kissing Justin lovingly. “Do you…um…have any…you know—”

“No,” Justin sighed, his leg twitching impatiently.

“I know where we can get some,” JC said bashfully. “If you really want to.” Justin smiled so bright JC had to squint.

“Ok,” Justin whispered, and watched anxiously as JC got off the bed to find some pants. “Um…Josh. We are talking about lube, right?”

“Dude…you’re not sticking saran wrap up my ass!”

“Aw, c’mon, Chris. It’s perfectly safe,” Lance said gleefully as he held up his fingers, wrapped tightly in cellophane. “It’ll make clean up much easier.”

“Good God,” Chris groaned, turning over and stuffing his face in a pillow. “How the hell did you get them to send that up so fast anyway?”

“Because I’m the man, that’s why,” Lance said as he looked at the recently arrived room service.

“I can only imagine what they thought when you asked for plastic wrap,” Joey called out from the bathroom.

“Well, I also ordered whipped cream, chocolate syrup, peanut butter, and tartar sauce!” Lance said excitedly.

“Lance, my man,” Chris groaned, looking at the blonde from behind his pillow, “you frighten me.”

“Me, too,” Joey laughed as he came back from the bathroom. “Tarter sauce. And by the way, how do you know about the sexual uses of saran wrap?”

“Um…nevermind,” Lance sighed, blushing.

“I’m feeling really good about myself right now,” Chris snorted, covering up with a sheet. “If we can’t handle this without body armor, I think pole vaulting is out of the question.”

“Ooohh,” Joey chuckled as he lay down next to Chris and kissed the back of his neck. “Want me to pole vault ya?” Chris turned to look at his smiling friend, and suddenly the idea seemed that much more appealing.

“Do you…want to?” Chris asked, swallowing hard.

“I could think of worse ways to spend a Thursday night,” Joey said with a smile. They leaned in, but were stopped by Lance’s insistent “Ahem!”

“What?” Joey and Chris snapped in unison.

“Doesn’t anyone want to worship at my back alter?” Lance whined. Joey and Chris looked at each other, and smiled.

“Paper scissors rock?” Chris asked.

“Abso-fucking-lutely!” answered Joey.

“You look good in my jeans,” JC sighed as he followed Justin from his room, through the suite’s lounge.

“What are you talking about?” Justin groaned, adjusting his basket in the tight denim. “These are waaaayyyy too tight for me.”

“I know,” JC said as he licked his lips. Justin smiled crookedly and pulled JC to him, planting his boyfriend’s hand on his rigid jackhammer.

“You’re a perverted little thing, aren’t you?”

“You better hope so,” JC sighed as he stroked Justin and guided him backwards.

“Ughhhh,” Justin moaned as JC pressed him against the wall and tasted his mouth. “You sure we can find some, baby?”

“Yeah,” JC whispered as he slid his hand inside his jeans on Justin. “Joey must have some. He’s got, like, an entire adult toy store in his suitcase.”

“And you’re sure they all went out tonight?” Justin whispered as he unzipped JC and pushed his jeans down.

“Uh-huh,” JC moaned with his tongue in Justin’s mouth. “Let’s hurry, honey dew melon,” JC giggled as he opened the door to Joey’s room.

“Ok, Super Sugar Crisp,” Justin chuckled as they both pushed the door open. “This is Joey’s room, right?”

“Wrong.”

Everyone froze where they were: JC and Justin in the doorway, their hands on each others exposed nookie nobs; Lance on the bed on all fours with Chris in his mouth and Joey doing the back-door boogie. They were too startled to be embarrassed, and too horny to hide. They looked from one to another, waiting for someone to speak. Finally, Chris cleared his throat.

“Um…did…did you guys need something?” he asked nonchalantly.

“Oh my God,” Justin whispered, quickly moving behind JC.

“You guys are…daaaaamn,” Joey said, smiling at the two across the room.

“I could say the same thing,” muttered JC with wide eyes.

“Hey guysthhh,” Lance mumbled cheerfully. “Come on inthh, ttthh waterz fiiiinth!” he said, waving them over and returning to his late night snack.

“Damn, boy, didn’t your mama teach you not to talk with your mouth full?” Chris grunted and winked at the blonde.

“Yeah, bad, bad boy,” Joey moaned, and slapped Lance on his already reddened asscheek. “Take that, Mr. Hollywood!”

“Oooh, yeah,” Lance groaned after taking Chris’s third leg from his lips. “Gimme my points off the back end, baby!” Joey laughed and spanked that ass again.

“You like that, don’t cha?” Joey growled and resumed thrusting. “Say it again, Sunshine boy!”

“Hump my happy place! Hump it!”

“Ha ha ha!” Chris laughed. “I knew he’d say it! You owe me ten bucks, Fatone!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Joey acquiesced, smiling broadly at Chris as he continued down Lance’s road less traveled. He released Lance’s hips and waved at the very astonished JC and Justin. “Look guys—no hands!”

“I…I can’t believe this,” JC said, unable to take his eyes off his three friends freaking on the bed in front of him.

“Dudes, close the door,” Chris said as he tried to reattach Lance’s mouth to his sledgehammer on the bouncing bed. “It’s drafty, man!” Justin closed the door behind him and walked over to the bed, watching the trio intently for a few seconds.

“Justin?” JC said, once he could finally speak. “Just—”

“What the hell. Wanna join in?” Justin asked, eyebrow cocked, as he wrapped an arm around JC’s tiny waist.

“Huh?” JC asked, shocked, but not as shocked as he would have thought. He glanced at Joey, who shook his head enthusiastically. Chris groaned something about more being merrier and went back to impaling Lance’s face. Lance grunted something completely incoherent and gave them thumbs up. JC turned to Justin with a confused look on his face.

“But, but what about commitment…and faithfulness…and being in a relationship with me?” he asked sincerely as he stroked Justin’s face. “What about all that?”

“Josh…did you see the size of Chris’s gigglestick?” JC took a closer look.

“Fuck it.”

“Whose hand is that on my Lizard King?”

“Um…it’s hard to tell, C,” Chris answered, his face being closest to JC’s in the heap of bodies on the bed. “I can’t even tell who’s in me right now,” he grunted, arching his back. “Why do you ask?”

“Just wondering,” JC sighed and kissed the mushroom head that suddenly came into his sight.

“Hey, Chris,” Joey grunted from somewhere underneath Justin’s leg. “I think I’m in you!”

“Oh yeah?” Chris sighed gleefully. “How can you be sure?”

“Squeeze twice if it’s you, man.”

“Ok.”

“Oh…um…I guess I was wrong,” Joey groaned. “Whose fortress of solitude has Joey invaded?”

“That would be mine,” Lance sighed.

“You again?” Joey laughed.

“No fair!” Chris quipped, moving to shake his fist at Lance, but Justin held him in place.

“Oh…don’t move, Chris,” sighed Justin, deep in concentration, his doohickey deep in Chris. “Hold still, please.”

“Oh, it’s you,” Chris said, turning to find Justin wrapped around him. “So, how ‘bout them Mets?”

“JC…slow down, man,” Joey said as he tried to balance on his knees with JC behind him and Justin underneath him. “This isn’t a race,” he sighed, watching Justin swallowing him with great enthusiasm. “Ease up, C.”

“Ugh…not that,” JC groaned, pummeling Joey harder. “Don’t say…uh…”

“What?” Joey asked, trying to keep his head from banging against the wall.

“Callth him Jossthh,” Justin tried to say with Joey’s hoo-hoo down his throat.

“Huh?” Justin rolled his eyes and removed the apparatus from his mouth.

“Call him Josh, or he’ll be there all day.”

“You’re a freak, Lance!” Chris exclaimed from between the blonde’s legs.

“What did I say?” Lance laughed.

“Playing musical chairs,” Chris laughed too as he bathed Lance’s naughty bits with his tongue.

“What’s the big deal? I’ll be the chair!”

“Wow, look at that,” Joey whispered to Chris and Lance as they watched JC writhing slowly on Justin’s lap in a nearby plush chair. “Aren’t they purdy?”

“You’re purdy, too,” Chris said before he could stop himself. Joey stretched out next to Chris and kissed him on the cheek.

“So are you.” Chris kept watching the Joshtin performance, but smiled.

“I guess I’m not pretty!” Lance complained with his arms crossed.

“Shut up,” Joey laughed and pulled Lance down next to him. “You’re the prettiest one of all.”

“That’s right.” Lance looked over at Justin pushing JC to the floor and riding him like the Kentucky Derby. “That looks…um…pretty good,” he murmured, looking at Chris and Joey and nodding towards his crotch.

“Not again,” Chris moaned rolling over to cover his now very sore ass. “How many times can you go in one night?”

“Don’t harsh my buzz, man. I’m in the zone.”

“Josh…uhhhhh,” Justin moaned deeply as he carried on analizing his friend. With every thrust inside JC’s heinie highway, he inadvertently pushed JC across the carpeted floor.

“Uh…uh…Justin…baby…rug…burn,” JC moaned as he wrapped his legs around Justin’s back and lifted his hips up, partly to swallow even more inches of Timberlove, partly to relieve his tender rumpal mounds.

“Oh, baby, you feel so damn good,” Justin whimpered. He leaned down to kiss his lover as he thrust into JC’s exhaust pipe and pumped JC’s thingamajig until it dribbled all over his hand.

“That’s it, Justy,” JC groaned, gripping Justin’s ass like a vice. “Pump my rump, baby! Hustle with my muscle!” They merely ignored the laughter coming from the bed.

“Ooooooohhhhh,” Justin grunted as he entered the home stretch. “Josh, I’m…I’m so close…come with me, sweetheart.”

“Yes, baby,” JC moaned as the two lovers locked eyes and Justin went into fourth gear, jackrabbiting all the way.

“Here I come.”

“Yes.”

“R-ready, J-Josh?”

“Yes.”

“Now, Josh! Now!”

“Yes.”

“Aarrrrrghhh…Jooooosssshhhh…fuuuuuckkk,” Justin squealed as he released his pearly passion potion deep inside JC’s alleyway d’amour. When the shudders subsided, he leaned back a little and smiled down at his boyfriend.

“Josh…I love y—” And he ended up taking it in the eye.

Chris woke up and winced at the bright sun shimmering through the hotel window and onto his hungover face. He stood up, slowly, and headed for the bathroom. He ignored the condom wrappers on the floor, the pillows thrown every which way, the room service jello, abandoned after Lance suggested a new way they could feed it to one another. He exhaled long and deep when he drained the lizard, taking only a cursory notice of the hickeys all over his stomach and thighs. He did glance at the Fan Barbie on the counter, but only because she was sitting on the Chris doll’s face. He went back to bed and had almost fallen back asleep when he felt something stir next to him. He turned over to find a tuft of blonde-highlighted hair peeking out of sheets.

“Is that Joey, or yet another of the many pop stars I poked last night?” Chris yawned. The tuft moved, and Chris was happy to see big brown M&Ms first thing in the morning.

“It’s me,” Joey groaned, holding his head as if to keep its contents from seeping out. “Ugh, my head. And, uh, I’m not.”

“Huh?” Chris rubbed Joey’s temples for him, and Joey smiled appreciatively.

“I mean…I’m not one, Chris. We, um, we never got…I never got a, um, turn.”

“Really?” Chris squeaked. “Did I?”

“Nope,” Joey yawned as he rolled on his back. “I guess we were too busy elsewhere.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Too bad,” Chris mumbled, rolling on his back and gazing at the ceiling.

“Yeah.” They stayed like that for a long time.

“So…why did you stay?” Chris asked nervously. Joey smiled, leaned over his buddy and kissed him.

“I always save the best for last.”

JC awoke to feather light kisses all over his face. He opened his eyes and was elated to find Justin next to him, holding him protectively as he had all night long.

“Morning,” Justin murmured sleepily.

“Morning.” JC smiled, somewhat astonished, at his lover. “You’re awfully chipper. Since when do you wake up so happy?”

“Since…I have what I’ve always wanted,” Justin replied bashfully. He whispered “you” before they kissed sweetly, softly.

“Last night was—”

“I know,” Justin said, biting his lip nervously. “Josh, I—”

“Justin—”

“I just…I want you to know that last night was just one night for me,” Justin said seriously as he took JC’s hand. “I meant what I said before. I want to be with you…only you.”

“Baby…so do I,” JC whispered, relieved. “C’mere.” He pulled Justin to him and kissed him deeply. Before he could stop himself, he quickly whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you so much,” Justin sighed, holding his lover tight. “I don’t ever want anyone else.”

“It’s just you and me from here on out.”

“You’re my soulmate, Josh. I don’t need anyone else.”

“From this day on, I’m yours and you’re mine, Justin.”

“Forever.”

“Forever.”

“Hey, guys.” Justin and JC turned over to find Lance lying next to them. He yawned and sat up. “Crazy night, huh?” he said, stretching as he stood up. He was still naked, as they were. He was hard, too. The happy couple watched Lance walk casually to the bathroom, preceded by what with early morning blurry vision appeared to be a near foot of prime Mississippi meat muscle. JC and Justin silently watched his tight ass until it disappeared into the bathroom. After the door closed, JC finally spoke.

“So, the absolute fidelity thing…can we start that tomorrow?”

“How about next Monday?”

“You’re on!”

The 2001 MTV Video Music Awards performance went off without a hitch. The costumes were trendy and tight, the crowd was energetic, and the band never sounded better. Even Wade was content with the changes the guys made to his choreography. At first he’d pooh-poohed the two extra floor humps, but only because the guys insisted on grunting, “Freak me” when they did them. But it actually worked. He even gave in when Justin and JC added a move that looked deceptively like they were grabbing each other’s packages. They had babbled about illusions and camera tricks, and Wade just shook his head. The ass grabs had been Chris’s idea, and Wade had to swallow his pride and tip his hat to the eldest *Nsyncer when the audience squealed delightedly during that part. Even the usually stoic industry people in the audience applauded, which made Joey squeeze Chris’ ass even harder. Lance suggested only a few extra hip thrusts, but the fact that they were holding each other around the waist during them made all the difference in the world. Wade had really liked that move, and he’d asked Lance to practice it later that night with him…in his hotel room. The extra practice really did Lance good, as it did Wade, who’d grown a full goatee and mustache in two weeks. All in all the performance was extraordinary, high-tech, and titillating. Not only for the audience, but for *Nsync as well. With all the thrusting, humping, touching, smiling, and winking, the five pop stars ended their triumphant number feeling content, exhausted, and quite…anxious. Perhaps it was the tight designer pants, but that performance gave “Pop” a whole new meaning.

Copyright © August 3-27, 2001 by KTA

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