This story is a work of fiction. None of these events have ever happened.
If you are not legally allowed to read this where you are, please do not do so.
This story is intended to be a multi-chapter story. This is the first part. I haven't written anything for a long time. I know it might be a bit rough, but I would love to get any feedback you may have, positive or constructive. I have the story mostly mapped out and will continue to add the next parts as I find the time to write them. I hope you enjoy!
ANDERSON & ME -- BY: CARTER WILLIAMS
CHAPTER 1
I'm trying to read, but the book I chose isn't interesting me. Maybe I should have packed another one. I'm trying to read more fiction, but halfway through this flight I'm thinking that I should have gone with something more comfortable. Perhaps an autobiography. Or maybe I will just watch the downloaded episodes of Grace and Frankie on my tablet. No - that doesn't interest me either. So, I just stare out the window looking at the country below. I'm feeling restless. I look so forward to my January vacation every year, but this year it is different. If I'm being honest, I have been really lonely lately. My life is a busy one -- but I do have some fun. Being a relatively good-looking gay guy can provide some entertaining experiences in this city. Though I think my age is beginning to show a little. I have to work a little harder to maintain my abs and biceps. I've had shoulder length dark hair for most of my life, but now I am at the age where I wonder if I am pulling it off still. I did think I found a gray in there the other day. But I had a man-bun before it was popular and for some reason, I take pride in that. But even with the fun, I'm feeling lonely. That's probably also because of my age. I find myself wondering lately if it's too late. I used to think that I didn't really need a constant partner in life, that my career was satisfying and so was the fun. But every year I go on this trip by myself and it is starting to hurt me a little at my core. Especially because I never wanted to be a career focused person.
I never anticipated I'd be an Executive Producer for anything. Like many people, I came to LA to be an actor. I did some bit parts on TV, and a couple plays here and there, but it never turned into much. I needed to pay bills, and being a waiter seemed a little too clichŽ. My thought process was if I could do anything in the business, then I could keep my foot in the door. So, one day I answered an ad for a comedian who was looking for a personal assistant. The job paid ok -- not great -- but it was bit of a gamble. Had it been only four years earlier, I would have jumped at the opportunity, but after Ellen DeGeneres came out of the closet her career had taken a bit of a nosedive. I sympathized for her, obviously being gay myself, but I didn't know if I was ready to hitch my wagon to this lady. Almost 20 years old, I hadn't even come out to my family, and what would they think if I was working for one of the most famous gay persons in the country. But when I showed up for the interview, she won me over with her charm. She was about to star in a new sitcom and was desperate to have someone she could trust. For some reason, that became me. The sitcom didn't work out, but it was only two years later that the Ellen talk show first premiered on syndicated television -- so ultimately the gamble paid off.
I was Ellen's PA during the development for the talk show, and into the first two seasons. She trusted me with everything, and I in turn, would trust her with much of my life. She was the first person I came out to and was incredibly encouraging as I went through the process. After the second season she promoted me to be a talent booker. I loved everything to do with this job, and I quickly got a reputation for booking some A-list talent. I was usually the first point of contact for these celebrities showing up to our stage-door. No matter how many times I met big celebrities, I don't think the awe factor ever wore off. After four years I was promoted to be a Producer, and eventually an Executive Producer. There are so many rumours swirling about Ellen being a terrible person behind the scenes, but it really isn't true. She was, and is, warmth and grace and constantly builds her team up. There is no other way I could have gone from being just a PA to an EP -- but here I am -- a 37-year-old single gay guy at the top of the Lesbian Queen's production team.
In fact, my boss being amazing is why I put so much effort into planning Ellen's birthday show every year. And that is why I always take a holiday immediately after her birthday. It really isn't customary to take a holiday in the middle of a season -- usually we wait for the summer or Christmas hiatus. But I have a great team, and a mid-season break has become a bit of a habit I rather enjoy. You might find this strange, but even in LA Grindr can get repetitive, so a fresh city is always nice. It might also seem strange, but a warm beach vacation is also a welcome relief from LA. The weather may be a bit similar, but it's nice to disconnect from the hustle and bustle of the city and enjoy a slower pace. Besides, I usually go home to Canada for Christmas, and once you're away from winter for a bit a week is enough to last you a while. So, this year's choice is a little weird. I haven't been to the New York for quite some time, and there are some shows I've been dying to see.
The flight attendant comes by and snaps me out of my trance. I decide to have a glass of wine. Maybe that will help calm this anxiety I am feeling. I also decide to just give up and watch Grace and Frankie. Before I know it, we are beginning our descent into the Big Apple. My mood is picking up a bit. Maybe it's the wine, but I also think it's just New York. I have always found this city energizing. When I moved to the USA I had to choose between New York and LA, and I don't regret my choice, but I do sometimes wonder how things may have turned out differently.
I catch an Uber to my hotel and start to get settled into my home for the next week. I've stayed here before and was surprised when I showed up to be upgraded to a suite with a decent view. I start to unpack. I hate living out of a suitcase, so if I am in a hotel for more than one or two nights I have to unpack. I brought a suit, just in case, and hang it up. I put my folded t-shirts and jeans into the drawers, and I take out my underwear. I have to smile a little at what I packed. Lots of bright coloured trunks and jockstraps -- I must have been feeling a bit horny when I packed. I hit the gym, have a shower and settle into a night in my room with room service. I feel like I should want to go do something, but a night in feels great after a day of travel.
My first two days in New York are jam packed. I meet up with Hailey, an old friend from LA who moved out to New York a few years back, eventually finding her way to be an EP on The Late Show with Stephen Colbert. We have lunch and catch up, and she invites me to the next taping of the show on Monday. My initial gut instinct is to say no, because the last thing I want to do on vacation from working on a talk show is be around another one. But I am a fan of Colbert's, and so I decided it might be worth it to go. She tells me that she will email me a pass to get in, and that I should come early, and she will try to see if I can meet Colbert either before or after the taping. That night I go to see Come From Away on Broadway. It was one of the most moving pieces of art I have seen, and it is filled with so much Canadiana that it made me feel briefly at home.
The next day, Sunday, I do some sight-seeing and go for a run in Central Park. On Monday I decide to head out to see the Statue of Liberty, something I have never done in all the times I've visited previously. Then I head over to the Ed Sullivan Theatre to see the taping of The Late Show. I arrive about an hour and a half before the taping starts and check in at the stage door where Hailey comes to meet me. She takes me in, and I immediately am taken to a room where Stephen Colbert is meeting with his writers. It is a thrill to get to meet him, and I get a couple pictures and move on. On the way through the next room I catch a glimpse of who I imagine must be a guest on the show today and stop dead in my tracks. Anderson Cooper is standing about thirty feet away from me.
"Are you OK?" Hailey asks.
"Yeah...sorry. I um." I stammer back.
"Oh - did you want to meet Anderson?" Hailey asks -- or at least I think that's what I heard.
"Um...no. I don't want to be a bother."
"It really wouldn't be a bother at all. He is always happy to meet a fan." Suddenly I find myself standing in front of Anderson Cooper. "Mr. Cooper," Hailey firmly says, "this is a friend of mine, Ben Lucas. He is visiting from Los Angeles. Actually, he is an Executive Producer for the Ellen show."
I'm still a little stunned when Anderson offers his hand, saying "It's very nice to meet you."
"Um. Yes. It is very nice to meet you too." I stammer.
"What brings you to New York?" he asks.
"I'm here to see some shows I've been wanting to for a while."
"Anything good? I always wish I could see more shows on Broadway."
"Um. Well I went to see Come From Away last night. It was great! Actually, tomorrow I am going to see Dear Evan Hansen, which I am very excited about."
"I haven't seen that yet either, but I keep hearing amazing things about it. Listen, I have to get ready for the show. It has been really nice to meet you."
"Thanks, right back at you!" I stammer back. Another handshake and he is gone.
"What is the matter with you? I've never seen you like this before." Hailey says to me.
"I guess I'm just a little starstruck I guess." I reply. But it is much more than that. You see, this isn't the first time I've met Anderson Cooper. And that meeting, a little over six years prior, has had a lasting impact on me since then.
***** Show days are always so busy. I am usually out at the stage door to meet the guests that we have booked for that day's show and then escort them in and prep them for their time on air. It wasn't too bad today, unusual for the first week of the season, as there were only two guests coming. Gwyneth Paltrow is on to promote her movie Contagion. Gwyneth was a regular on the show, which makes my job super easy, as there is little prep, and guidance needed. The other guest is Anderson Cooper, who Ellen had invited on to promote his upcoming daytime talk show, which is set to debut next week. Anderson has never been on the show, so he requires a little more help getting around. After I meet him at the door, I escort him to his room. We make small talk along the way, and he seems to be a genuinely nice person -- something I've come to not expect in a lot of journalists. I find myself getting a little distracted as he speaks. I had always thought he was cute, but in person he is incredibly handsome. My mind starts to wonder if he might be gay. Maybe bi? It occurs to me that I've never seen much at all about his private life. I am so lost in thought that I almost make a wrong turn, but I catch myself just in time and we arrive at his dressing room.
"Ah...Um...here we are Mr. Cooper." I barely get the words out.
"Oh please. Just call me Anderson. I'm not a very formal guy." He replies, "It was Ben, right?"
"Yes. Ben. I will let you settle in. It is going to be about a half hour and then I will come grab you to do a quick tour. Please make yourself at home, and if you need anything just press that button by the mirror and it will ding me. Is there anything else I can get you right now?"
"No that sounds great thanks. Is there a shower in the bathroom? I just got off a plane and I feel like that could be a good refresher."
"Yes, there is. All the towels on the rack are fresh, so please help yourself. I'll be back in 30."
"Thanks!" Anderson replies, and I step out of the room. I stand in the hallway for a minute getting a little distracted about the thought of Anderson Cooper in the shower. I can feel my jeans getting a little tighter, and then quickly remember where I am. That's enough of that.
I head down to the set, and quickly pop in on our other guest to make sure she has everything she needs. I begin to run through my checklist. The crew is checking some things on the set, and I find myself getting lost in the thought of Anderson Cooper being naked in the same building. I'm getting hard again, but I'm hidden behind a couple things, so I take a moment to feel my cock through my jeans. It feels much too good way too quickly, and I can already feel some precum leaking into my boxer briefs.
BANG! A set piece being moved on stage drops and snaps me back to attention. I look at my watch and realize it's actually been about 35 minutes since I left Anderson, and I need to go take him on a tour. I really hate being late, so that frustration helps deplete the hardness down below. I grab my coffee and head back across the studio to the guest dressing rooms. I knock on the door.
"Mr. Coo...Anderson. I'm here to show you around the studio." I announce. I hear him welcome me to come in. I open the door, and step into the room, but I don't see him at first. The bathroom door is open, and I can see in the reflection from the vanity mirror that he is still in there, looking at himself in the bathroom mirror...in his underwear. I'm noticing this all at once, yet every detail seems to be coming piece by piece. He is wearing a tight pair of gray boxer briefs -- looks like Under Armour. Then I notice that there is a rather large bulge in the front that seems to keep growing. My eyes glance up the mirror and I see that he is rubbing his chest and squeezing his nipple. He reaches down and grabs his cock through the fabric. A soft moan escapes his lips. The dressing room door has closed behind me, and he doesn't seem to notice that I'm standing there. I'm instantly hard, and I start grabbing my cock, which is begging to come out of my jeans. Suddenly it hits me. I shouldn't be in here. This is incredibly inappropriate, not to mention unprofessional. But...didn't he tell me to come in? Did I just hear something wrong?
While my mind races the show before me intensifies, and I can't seem to look away or get out of the room as my conscious is telling me to. He continues to play with his left nipple while his right hand roams his torso. He rubs his chest and his stomach -- he doesn't have abs, but he definitely works out. He runs his hand up and feels his bicep. He moans again, and his focus is on his body in the mirror. He runs his hand down his body again and grabs his cock. Then he quickly lifts the material and slides his hand in. He begins to start stroking his cock inside his boxer briefs. The moaning only intensifies.
He removes his left hand from his nipple just long enough to slip down his boxer briefs. A hard, thick, uncut cock flops out and slaps him in the stomach. It must be about seven or eight inches. With his cock free, he begins to stroke even harder. His left hand has returned to his nipple, but then begins to find its way around his body, eventually cupping the big set of balls under his rock-hard cock. Smooth balls, under a large shaft with neatly trimmed pubes. He continues to moan and then he speaks.
"Yeah. Fuck me!" he says breathily as he pumps his cock. "Yeah fuck me good. Fill me with your cum." I feel like he is talking to me, and my own cock does to as the precum is starting to drench my own boxer briefs. The moaning intensifies even more and so does his breathing. I realize he is going to cum soon. I think the dirty talk must have sent him over the edge. He is stroking his cock hard and fast. He starts to grunt, and rope after of rope of cum shoot forth from his cock onto the bathroom sink and I'm guessing the mirror. Because of the angle of the reflection I can't quite see just how much cum has shot out -- but it seems to keep going forever.
Suddenly it occurs that I can't let him find me here. I begin to panic. I sneak out of the room as quick as I can. I turn around and get ready to knock again, but before I do, I realize that I have a raging hard on that is not going away anytime soon, and likely not without relief. I walk quickly, almost a run, down the hall to the staff bathroom. As soon as I get in and the door locks, I rip my jeans open and slide them and my boxer briefs down as quickly as I can. My own seven- inch, uncut cock is leaking. I stroke as quick and hard as I can. I'm so horny from what I saw that it doesn't take me long to cum. I think about his cock. I think about how we are both uncut. That drives me past the point of no return, and I begin to shoot my own rather large load of cum all over the wall. I'm so caught up I don't even think about the fact that I am going to have to clean that all up.
I stand in the bathroom for a moment, my cock starting to soften in my hand. My breathing is still heavy, and my thoughts are running all over the place. I still can't get past the fact that I'm sure that he told me to come in when I knocked. Yet when I was in the room, it seemed like he didn't even know I was there. Did he want me there? Was that a rouse? And holy shit -- he was saying "Fuck me" over and over again. Is he actually gay?! I snap out of it realizing I'm now way behind schedule for the day, and I still have a rather large mess to clean up. But how the hell do I go back there and act like none of this just happened?
***** The taping of The Late Show is a great experience. Colbert's monologue is hilarious. It turns out that Anderson Cooper is the only guest on the show, and the interview seems to go well, and I discover that getting to sit and watch a taping without being responsible for anything happening in it is a rather liberating and fun experience. My thoughts, however, keep trailing back to this experience that I had in Anderson's dressing room on my show. Over the years I've thought about when I see him on TV or in social media, but this is the first time I've seen him in person and it's like I can't get those images out of my head now. The taping wraps up, and Hailey comes out to check in with me before I leave. We make a plan to meet again for dinner later in the week. I head back out into a New York January and carry on with my holiday.
The next evening, I am almost giddy about the opportunity to see Dear Evan Hansen, which I have been dying to see for quite some time. I arrive at the theatre early and browse through the merch table. I stop in the bathroom to freshen up before going in to find my seat, and I admire myself in the mirror. I believe in dressing nice for the theatre, so I have worn a navy- blue suit that fits just right, showing off my toned arms and legs, and especially my ass. Seeing Anderson Cooper in person again has sparked a wave of horniness in me, so I wore one of my favourite jock straps -- an orange C-in-2 jock where the straps come around the front leg and wrap around to the bottom of my ass, making it look even better than normal.
I get myself ready and head into the theatre to find my seat, dead centre in the fifth row. I look around a bit and admire the building and the set which includes a number of screens with social media feeds rolling by. I decide to take a quick selfie and use the hashtag to see if it will make it on the screen. It doesn't take long, likely because I'm one of the first people in the door. I dive into the program and start reading about the actors, and then I hear a rather familiar voice next to me.
"It was Ben, right?" asks the voice, which I glance up to see is coming from Anderson Cooper, working his way down the row of chairs toward me.
To Be Continued...