By Zaen
You’re
not even sure when it started. Justin
always had a propensity for being overly affectionate at the oddest times. When he was young he’d wrap himself around
you during video shoots, or he’d lay his head in your lap during long limo
rides. If you were in private he’d play
with your hair, or sometimes he’d just stare at you until you got so fed up that
you would leave the room.
As
he got older he’d sometimes feign a lisp, let his hand go limp, and say
something suggestive until your cheeks would go red. Then he’d laugh, say “just kidding!” and slap
your butt on his way out of your personal space.
Eventually
you wouldn’t blush anymore. He’d try and
try, turning it up a notch by touching you or licking his lips at you. Once he figured out he couldn’t rile you
anymore, he stopped with the fake come-ons and started making real ones…just
not to you.
When
Justin started dating Britney, he’d sometimes come into your room first thing
in the morning, when you were still half asleep, and regale you with his sexual
adventures. Early on in their
relationship it was just night-long make out sessions and petting he’d tell you
about. You’d doze and nod your head and
try to block out any mental pictures. As
time went on Justin would just burst into your hotel room, or even call you on
breaks, and go into graphic detail about his sex life. Sometimes he’d get into it, with sound
effects and “and then I said…” or “and then she sucked…” or “mmm...” and you’d nod your head and turn away so Justin
couldn’t see what it was doing to you.
Sometimes Justin would stroke your arm as he talked. And he’d whisper, too.
When
Bobbie was around, Justin would alternate between ignoring you and hanging all
over you. When you and she would break
up, Justin would talk shit about her, saying she wasn’t good enough for you.
When
you and she broke up for good (the first time) Justin was there for you,
holding your hand, staying with you, stroking your hair, telling you it would
be all right.
When
you and she broke up for good, for real,
Justin didn’t say anything. He just
crawled into your bed with you and joined you for marathon naps.
It
was during one of those long naps that Justin first kissed you. You were startled at first, but Justin licked
his lips at you like he meant business.
So you kissed him back.
For
months you never knew when it would happen, but eventually Justin would knock
on your hotel room door or show up on your front porch. You’d hang out, go clubbing, talk about your
families, or just sit on the couch and watch TV with your hands barely touching
between you. Then Justin would slip into
your bed at night and kiss you and touch you for what seemed like hours.
~~*~~
Then
one day Justin said he wanted you. That
you were the first guy—the only guy—that he wanted to go all the way with. You bit your lip and started to say that you
felt the same, but then Justin snickered, “I just wanna get it over with, in
case I meet another…well, you know. I
don’t want to be a guy-virgin, you know?”
“Yeah,
I know,” you lied.
“Right, so.” Justin
took you by the hand and led you upstairs.
You shifted your weight nervously while he lit candles, and you wondered
to yourself why the hell he wanted candlelight for what for Justin was surely
nothing more than a formality. Sure
enough, he had all the accoutrements ready in the nightstand drawer—3 kinds of
condoms, 6 kinds of lubricant, a package of latex gloves, and an old Led
Zeppelin t-shirt of yours circa 1982.
You picked the fraying shirt up and raised an eyebrow. Justin coughed nervously.
“Isn’t
this my old—”
“Yeah,
I just,” Justin mumbled, looking at the bed.
“It was just in there, so I thought—”
“Oh,
I see.” You took the shirt and laid it
on the bed on top of Justin’s 500 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets. It was a sharp contrast, but you could see
why Justin wouldn’t want to ruin his best sheets with sweat…or any other
fluids. You placed it in such a way that
you thought it would “catch”…stuff…and then rearranged it several times. When you looked up, Justin was already
naked. “Oh, sorry,” you mumbled, and
grabbed at your own shirt. Justin
stilled your hand.
“Come
here, JC,” he whispered to you. He held
you for a long time before finally stripping you slowly. It threw you how slowly he undressed you. Like he was actually
nervous or something. He kissed
you that way, too. And he moved
underneath you and on top of you that way—slowly, carefully, anxiously. You were tempted to think he really…maybe…cared
about this moment. Desire was clouding
your judgment, so you asked him.
“Will
you remember this?” you groaned as you spread his legs.
“Yeah,”
he panted.
“Even
when you’re with…other people?” you asked, even though you didn’t want to
know. Justin looked down bashfully, but
then the cocky grin was there again instantly.
“Yeah, sure, JC. If you always remember me…when you’re with…other people.”
“Yes,”
was what you whispered before you took him, before you were the first man to
enter him. It
was what you groaned over and over as you filled him and he shook beneath
you. You promised him, and you knew it
would not be a hard promise to keep.
~~*~~
You
had a string of short “relationships.”
You
spent some time with a hot South American—or was she French?—model for a few
weeks. Then Justin invited you to check
out his tour rehearsals. When he asked
you about your “girl, uh, friend”, there was an annoying nasality in his voice. When you tried to tell him about her, he shut
you up with his mouth, and then went down on you in his dressing room. When you left, you found the door was
unlocked.
You
had 4 or 5 hot dates with a civilian—a doctor you met while shopping for
underwear at Wal-mart at 3 A.M. He’d come in to buy socks after a double
shift, he was gorgeous, and best of all, he didn’t
seem to know who you were. You took him
out for breakfast, and then you took him home for lunch. He was a really nice guy, but was really too
busy to make much time for you. At least
that’s what you told yourself, and Justin, when he called.
“You’re
dating a doctor?” Justin asked over the sound of drilling and stagehands
yelling.
“Well,
I don’t know. He’s nice and—”
“He? He?” Justin yelled, and you winced, hoping no one on
Justin’s end knew who was on the phone.
“Yeah, J. He’s cool,
and the sex is pretty good.”
“Uh huh.” Click. You looked at the phone and wondered how long
it would take until Justin rushed in to take over.
Three
days later, no Justin. And no calls from the doctor. On the fourth day Justin sent you a very
long, very dirty email. Highlights
included:
I’m
fucking you right now, C. My hand is
you. Your so tiiiiiiiiiiite.
You feel so good inside, baby.
You have no idea how hot your gettg me,
JC. FUkc…
This hotel room is so quiet. Remember that time we played strip poker in
Don’t I.
I bet that doctor of yours can’t
make you cum like I can
I can make you hard with just the
sound of my voice
Shit. I’m too hard.
I can’t take it. I’ve gotta fuck
someone right now.
To bad you’re not hear rite now,
JC. I’d love to be inside yoo right now.
You
read it over and over again, and you didn’t even laugh at his typos. You were amazed that he bothered to email you
at all, what with his supposed “aversion” to computers. You thought about printing the whole thing
out, but you were afraid someone might find it.
So you read it again, real slow, and jacked off right there in front of
the computer.
You
never saw the doctor again.
~~*~~
You
were still picturing and feeling and smelling Justin around and inside you
whenever you had sex with someone else. Actresses, models, D-list pseudo wannabe celebs,
whatever. You could have as many
as you wanted; you were free. You and
Justin never discussed terms. You didn’t
have to. It was obvious that he was
playing the field. You weren’t asking
for a ring or keys to his house or anything.
You had him when you had him.
Sometimes you’d lock yourselves in his house for an entire weekend of
fucking, take out, DVDs, and gin rummy.
Sometimes he’d surprise you at the studio for a brownbag lunch and a handjob. Sometimes
you’d go weeks without a word from him, only to hear him letting himself into
your house with the keys you gave him 5 years ago. You never complained, because you had no
right to. What you had was sex and friendship,
and you were fine with that. You were
really very quite fine with that.
When,
after a nice long phonesex session, you told Justin how
incredibly really very fine with that you were, Justin was quiet for a few
seconds.
“Right?”
you squeaked. “I mean, we never really
talk about rules or anything.”
“I
know, C.”
“We
see other people,” you said carefully. A
strange, uncomfortable silence followed.
“Right?”
“Yeah,
you’re right, JC.” Justin coughed a few
times. You didn’t know how to take
that. “Yeah, like, I’m kinda seeing
someone…like…a lot. Right
now.”
“I
didn’t know that,” you lied as you picked up an US Weekly magazine with
Justin and a famous actress kissing on the cover.
“Yeah. For a few weeks now.”
“Oh.” Your stomach started to hurt. Probably the cheap takeout you had
earlier. “So, I guess you’ll want to,
uh, stop. With me.”
“Do
you?” Justin asked quickly. Another sharp pain.
“No…but
if you do—”
“I
don’t—”
“You’re
moving on—”
“—wanna
stop, JC.”
“I
guess—huh?”
Justin
sighed and lowered his voice to a sultry whisper. “I don’t wanna stop with you, JC.”
You
nodded, and then you breathed deeply. “I
guess I should…um…get myself a girlfriend, too.
You know…to keep me company.
Might as well, right?” you tried to say jokingly. Justin didn’t comment for a while. Finally he cleared his throat.
“Yeah, JC. You might
as well.”
You’d
already been seeing—not dating—a fun, sexy actress that could drink and
fuck you under the table. You two had
some good times together, but it was never serious. It never could have been, because the moment
pictures of you two vacationing together showed up in the celebrity rags,
Justin suddenly arrived in town and kept you in his house for 2 days,
imprisoned by expensive food and wine and nonstop sex.
“I
haven’t been able to return her calls.
She’s probably moved on by now,” you sighed as Justin stretched out on
top of you.
“That’s
too bad.”
“I’d
never be able to withstand torture,” you sighed happily. “Hot sex would get me every time.”
You
couldn’t see it, but you swore you could feel Justin smile on your back.
~~*~~
One
night you ran into Justin and his new girlfriend at a new hip restaurant. You’d met her briefly before, but this was
the first time you were able to really look at her. She was sweet and goofy and seemed to really
like Justin. He looked nervous, so you
excused yourself to the men’s room. You
stood at the urinal for a long time, just staring at the obscured mirrored
wall. A few minutes later Justin rushed
in and peeked under the stall doors to make sure the bathroom was otherwise
empty.
“She’s
nice, J,” you offered. Justin smirked
and pulled you into a stall. His hand
was in your pants before the stall lock clicked. “J…what are you doing?”
“Shh, we don’t have time.”
He kissed you and tightened his fist.
Your cock swelled against your will.
“But…your
girlfreeenth,” you tried to utter around his tongue.
“You
don’t really want to talk about her, do you?”
You
looked down at his hand rubbing yours over his crotch. “Can you be fast?”
Justin
made you come in under a minute. It took
Justin 30 seconds longer, but only because he kept trying to push you to your
knees. You refused to get your pants
dirty, but you gladly pulled your shirt up, and you let him release onto your
bare stomach. He thanked you, he kissed
you, and then he walked out. You washed
your hands, but you left your shirt untucked. You went out the back way and drove home with
Justin’s semen drying on your belly.
The
next week Justin bought a restaurant, and told you which fake panel in the back
hallway to push to find the secret empty supply closet. You went on opening night, even though Justin
was on tour, just to check the place out.
You slipped away from your best friend/sometimes buddyfuck/manager
and easily found Justin’s secret hideaway.
It was large enough only for a chaise, a lamp, and a shopping bag, which
you noticed contained lots of tissues, condoms, and a picture of Justin. You smiled.
~~*~~
You
worked on your album. You spent time
with your friends. You tried not to
check your email for messages from bigtool131@jive.net too often. And, you tried not to notice that Justin was
in a bona fide relationship.
Justin
showed up at C4tC5, no girlfriend in sight.
You hadn’t seen him in over a month, and he seemed changed in some way
you couldn’t explain. His entourage was
entirely new. He had a lot of facial
hair. He smiled with teeth very
infrequently.
“I’m
tired. Touring,” Justin said when you
asked him how he was.
“Ok.” You shifted your weight and looked at the
hotel suite door, wondered if it was locked.
“I should let you get some rest.”
“JC,
come here.” You stood in front of Justin
and waited, for him to smile at you and kiss you and rub his fuzzy face against
your neck. Instead, Justin pulled you on
the bed and roughly turned you on your stomach.
“Hey!”
Justin
sighed and crawled over you. He hissed
in your ear, “I’ve been waiting a long time for this.” You shivered and went limp as he undressed
you. When you heard him fumbling with a
condom and lube, your eyes shot to the door leading into the suite. “Did you lock the—”
“Shh.” Justin
stretched out on top of you and rubbed himself against you, slowly. He didn’t kiss your neck, but his fingers
teased your nipples until you shivered and purred. “Have you been letting any other guys fuck
you?” he grunted as he slipped a lubed hand between your legs. At first you didn’t answer, but then he
pressed his finger inside you, and you figured he’d be able to guess by your
surprised, pained groan.
“N-no.”
“That’s
good. That’s really good.” Justin lifted you so your ass was up in the
air and he left you there, with your legs spread wide, on your knees. All you could hear behind you was his heavy
breathing.
“Justin.”
“Please,
JC. I’m thinking.”
“About
what?” you asked desperately.
Justin
cleared his throat and calmly answered, “About how I’m going to fuck you.”
He
ended up bending you over the desk and fucking you so hard that you sent the
desk blotter and complimentary pad of hotel stationary clear across the
room. When you started to scream he
pulled out and wrapped his arms around you.
“Did
I hurt you?” he whispered as he rubbed himself against your back. You shook your head. It hurt a little, but you didn’t want to
stop. So you turned over and let him
push you down to the floor on your knees.
“JC…I’ve missed you.” It was the
old Justin again, all soft eyes and big hands all in your hair. “Missed this so much.” You nodded and pulled him to you. You slipped the condom off and slid Justin’s
cock in your mouth in 2 swift motions.
He came quickly, filling your mouth with the taste you’d been craving
for weeks.
“Yes. Perfect.
Always perfect.” Justin wiggled
his hips, fucking your mouth gently even as he went soft. You liked this more than you cared to admit,
but then Justin was pulling you up and rushing you to the bed. He pushed you down and spread your legs
firmly as he sank to his knees at the foot of the bed.
“I
want you,” you couldn’t help moaning.
“I
know.” He held your legs as he sucked
you. A hard feat, with all your gyrating. When
you felt his tongue slipping down your perineum you started grabbing at the bed
sheets. Then that slick warmth was at
your entrance, and you actually thought you’d cry. Justin had never wanted to do this, and now
he was rimming you, licking your anus like he was born to do it. You gasped for air and looked down to make
sure it was really happening.
“J—Jus—oh—oh
baby—yes—doitdoitdoit…” Justin smiled and kept on, jerking you off
with one hand and holding you down with the other. You saw him pause for a second, like he was
preparing himself, and you knew. You
braced yourself against the bed. You froze
when Justin’s wet hot tongue penetrated you.
He slipped in easily, so easily.
You curled up, so he’d go in all the way, so he’d taste you all the way. It was just a few seconds, and then it
retreated. But before you could miss
him, he was back, and this time the tongue wiggled its way in. You cursed and grabbed your cock so you could
feel the heat spew out of it. Justin
stayed with you, in you, as you shook and your legs locked around him. Only when you’d stopped yelping and stopped
ejaculating did Justin lick his way out of you.
You
lay there for a long time, you legs still open, Justin resting his head on your
belly. You only thought to cover up when
Trace burst into the room moments later.
“Dude! Uh, sorry,”
Trace grunted, eyes to the floor, “but…
“Thanks,”
Justin said nonchalantly. You watched
Trace rush out the door, and then your eyes turned to Justin scrambling for his
pants. You finally remembered to
breathe, and blushed from head to toe, delayed reaction. “Here,” Justin whispered as he threw you your
underwear.
“Trace
knows?”
Justin
put his shirt on inside out, then cursed and flipped it the right way. “Huh?”
“Trace
knows…about us?”
“Dude, you almost done?”
Justin pulled the sheets off the bed and started pushing you towards the
door before you even had your sandals on properly. You just had time to grab your satchel and
tuck your shirt in when Justin opened the door, and there she was. You smiled politely, as she did to you. When she leaned in to kiss Justin’s lips, he
turned his head and hugged her, smooching her on the
neck. She giggled, pulled away from
Justin, and walked over to drop her purse on the bare desk. Trace followed and gave you a worried look. Justin closed the door behind you two and
looked over your shoulder at his security guys in the hallway. They exchanged words, but all you heard was
your pulse pounding in your head.
“So,
um, I guess I’ll see you later?” Justin asked softly. At least he looked guilty; at least you had that. “At the events and stuff.”
“Right.”
“So…what
are you gonna do now?” Justin asked with his hands on his mouth.
“Maybe
get some sun.” Justin nodded, but then
he was distracted by something. He
closed his eyes and inhaled slowly against his fingers. You started to ask what he was doing, and
then your breath caught in your throat.
He looked at you, then licked his fingers. They were still a bit sticky with your
lovemaking—with you. You had to look away to keep from getting
hard. Justin went back into his
suite. You lingered at the door before
it closed. The last thing you heard was
Justin telling Cameron he’d just worked out and needed a quick shower first.
You
had too many drinks, fell asleep in the sun, and your back was red and
blistered for a week. You welcomed a new
source of pain to distract you from what had been ailing you for several years.
~~*~~
Copyright October 25, 2005