Disclaimer/Intro: Alright, I'm back with another story after way too long a time. Unfortunately, there isn't even any sex in it!...well, sorta. The following story involves the young hot British pop singer Gareth Gates enjoying some quality time at home by himself, during which time he decides to explore all the various fun things he can do with his body. Anyone who isn't turned on by feet, piss, or depictions of homosexual activity in general should probably stop reading this now. Same applies for those under legal age. And yeah, I don't know Gareth Gates in real life or anything, so this is not meant to imply anything about his sexuality, it's just my own fantasy. (If anyone likes this, by the way, I may also do a separate series of celebrity piss stories, as I've had quite a few ideas in my head regarding that topic (and judging from this story, I seem to be leaning that way anyhow). Can't promise I can actually do them with any sort of regularity, though. Also, comments, suggestions, praise, hot photos of Gareth Gates barefoot and/or peeing, and all that good stuff can be sent to bedroomathlete84@hotmail.com.)
Gareth Gates' Solo Performance (j/o, solo, feet, ws)
"Oh, for God's sakes, get up already, you lazy git!"
Wendy Gates nudged her son in the side. She had been prodding the lump in the bed for nearly half an hour now.
"This is ridiculous, Gareth, your father and I have to catch a jet at 4! We need you to get up already!" She was practically screaming by this point.
Gareth stirred some more, trying to rouse himself out of sleep. He had been exhausted staying up the night before, trying to write a new song, that he hadn't realized it when 5 AM. It was now noon, and he usually didn't function well on less than nine hours of sleep. He grumbled a bit and then acknowledged his mother's presence with a sore "Yeah, yeah, I'm getting up, don't get your knickers in a twist," though he mumbled this last part so it was below hearing level.
His mother, satisfied, exited the room, leaving Gareth free to get dressed.
Another reason he was hesitant to wake up and get out of bed so soon was that he had had a raging case of morning wood and it would've been really embarrassing for his mother to have seen that, considering he usually slept in just a pair of boxers. Sitting up, Gareth yawned and stretched, wiggling his toes and flexing his arms to try to snap himself out of his lethargic state.
The one good thing about sleeping at his parents' home in Kensington was that he had his huge comfy childhood bed that he could sleep in. He had been asked to take care of his parents' house while the rest of his family took a four-day trip to Paris, which had been somewhat supplied for by Gareth's Pop Idol and record sale earnings. Gareth himself unfortunately could not go with them, and in fact had to go record some tracks in the studio for his upcoming new album. Of course, he knew that if he went anyway, he would probably be harassed by gaggles of French teenyboppers and while he adored his fans, he wasn't terribly in the mood to deal with that whilst on vacation. He certainly didn't want to put his family through such an ordeal, either. So he'd decided that the best course was for him to stay home and watch over things while his family enjoyed themselves on his earnings. Plus, who can resist having a big house all to themselves? He loved his family but at the same time was sort of happy to know that they were all letting him lord over the whole house.
Putting on a tight red shirt from his closet and slapping on a crumpled pair of jeans that he'd tossed on his floor the previous night, he stretched again and then went to the bathroom to check himself out in the mirror. His hair, as he usually felt, looked awful, so he opened up the medicine cabinet and took out his trusty bottle of hair gel. Even when at home, popstars had to look good. He slapped some of the sticky straightening fluid in his hair until he was satisfied with it and then gazed at himself once more in the mirror. Taking out his toothbrush, he applied some toothpaste and brushed heartily, eliminating his nasty morning breath. Rinsing thoroughly, he gargled and spit his mouth scum into the sink, washing it away with a quick twist of the faucet. He flashed his gap-toothed smile in the mirror, taking note of how white his teeth were (these are important features for a pop singer, after all).
Heading downstairs, he found his parents and his three sisters, Nicola, Charlotte and Jessica, plus his foster brother James, waiting downstairs with all their bags.
"Well, looks like the famous pop star has decided to grace us with his presence," joked Paul Gates, Gareth's impatient father.
"Oh, come off it, you'll catch your plane. Got your tickets and everything?" Gareth inquired, trying not to sound too enthusiastic.
"Yes, right here," Nicola said, flashing six tickets in her right hand. "So eager to get us out of your hair, I presume?"
"Why, why would I want this entire house all to myself?" Gareth asked, faking naivete.
"Oh, after all the hotel rooms you've stayed in, Gareth, this is hardly posh at all. And there's no mini-bar, either," joked Wendy.
"Oh, mum, you know I don't drink," assured Gareth. "And besides, it's just nice to be home instead of China or some place."
"Well, don't go too mad while we're away. We know you'll miss us terribly but try to not rack up the phone bills trying to reach us," joked Charlotte.
"Oh, group hug!" Gareth exclaimed. Everyone jokingly gathered together in a large embrace, squeezing tightly. The honking of a cab horn outside, the one that belonged to the cab Gareth had ordered for his family the previous day, broke the cushy love-in. The Gates family began to hustle their belongings outside.
"Have a great time, everyone!" Gareth said, pausing to individually hug his family members goodbye. "Bring back some yummy French food!"
"Will do, Gareth! Take good care of the house, don't burn anything down!" exclaimed his father as he entered the cab.
Gareth watched as his family peeled down the street in their cab. Seeing that they were very much out of his depth of vision, he smiled and became really excited. The whole house to himself for four days! He envisioned that for most of this time, he'd have some mates over, order a lot of pizza, maybe make a few stiff drinks (clearly what he'd said to his mother was a lie). Aside from all his labor in the studio, he could see that the next couple of days without parental supervision in his own home would be wonderful.
Problem was, it was still only noon and he had nothing in particular to do at that point. He remembered the family's new computer in the back den, which he had helped pay for, and so made it a point to check it out immediately. He realized how potentially lame it was that with the whole place to himself he was going to go online, but he figured he could maybe slip on under his covert screen name and see if any of his mates were around, and if not, perhaps just browse the internet to find ideas for timekillers.
Passing the kitchen on the way, he stopped and rummaged through his freezer to find a suitable breakfast/lunch. He took out a box of frozen French bread pizza and popped it in his toaster oven. While that cooked, he poured himself a glass of wine from his father's liquor cabinet in the dining area. One little drink here and there couldn't hurt, and wine was supposed to be, in fact, good for you. Plus, at 20 years old, he was of legal drinking age in England anyway, so it's not like when he was younger and would steal snifters of brandy away from his father without his knowledge (or so he'd hoped).
Making his way to the den with his glass of wine, he signed onto his family's computer. As he liked to do so often, he typed his own name into a search engine just to see what would come up. He enjoyed looking at his fan's pages devoted to him, not out of narcissism, but because he genuinely loved making so many of his fans happy with his music. However, he came across one site that he'd never seen before in all his searches over the Internet. It was a Gareth Gates photo gallery, nothing new to him of course, but all the photos of himself had one thing in common: he wasn't wearing socks or shoes in any of them. Occasionally during his many photo shoots, the photographer had asked him to remove his footwear because baring skin, even if it's your feet, is considered sexy, he'd been told. He found out that the entire website contained nothing but photos of male celebrities, all barefoot. He clicked out immediately, a bit disturbed by what he had seen. Now, teen girls devoting pages to all his various pop music magazine pullouts was nothing; girls had been doing that forever. But for a bunch of guys to devote themselves to nothing but his feet was a little strange.
Not wanting to explore that mess any further, Gareth headed back to the kitchen to check on his pizza. Seeing it was nearly done, he pulled it out of the oven and waited for it to cool down. While he did, he looked down and noticed that he'd forgotten to put socks on that morning and had been parading barefoot throughout the house. Sitting down, he propped his right foot up onto his left knee and examined it for awhile. What was supposed to be so hot about feet? It was generally accepted that they smelled sort of gross and he couldn't really understand what their sexual appeal was. He did, however, take very good care of his feet, considering that he had to dance onstage very frequently and so wanted to keep his feet in top shape. He trimmed them regularly, even. He supposed as far as feet went, his really weren't so bad, though he had a bit of stray hair on the top that made him wonder again how anyone could get a load off thinking about his feet.
His pizza had cooled down by this point, so he took a bite into it. The copious amount of sauce on the pie didn't quite make it all into his mouth, however. As he bit into it, a little drop of pizza sauce landed on the sole of his foot, which was still crossed on his left knee. Reaching for a napkin and finding that there weren't any, Gareth wondered what he was going to do.
By this point, his curiosity about the foot thing had reached such a peak that he really started to wonder if there was something behind this foot worship business. Since there was no cleaning implement within sitting reach of him, and no one was at home anyway so no one could walk in on him, he decided that he take an extreme measure, just as an experiment. Hoisting his foot up to his face (being a dancer, he was quite flexible), he tentatively stuck his tongue out. Pulling back, he decided that maybe this wasn't such a good idea. He really couldn't fathom doing what he had planned to do, but then again, if he didn't try it now, he may never have gotten a good chance to find out ever. Once again lifting his foot, Gareth bent his head down, stuck his tongue out, and licked the drop of pizza sauce off of the sole of his foot. He tasted...nothing, really, except for the sauce, and that always tasted good. It was a little bit salty, maybe, but not quite as stomach-churning as he had expected.
So there, he'd decided that there wasn't anything special about feet, so back to lunch for him. He took another bite into his pizza and another sip of his wine. Apparently, the wine was making him really courageous and experimental, because all of a sudden he got the urge to try again and see if he could produce any sort of reaction from licking his own feet. Deciding to try it without the sauce this time, Gareth hoisted up his foot once more and, this time without so much hesitation, ran his tongue along the back of the sole. This time, he was surprised to feel his cock twitch underneath his jeans. He didn't understand why he was starting to feel aroused for doing something that wasn't supposed to be sexual in the least. Smearing a bit more sauce on the back of his sole, he licked it up again, eager to taste the sauce juxtaposed with the slightly salty skin of his soles. He put his foot down, realizing that this was totally wrong that he was getting any enjoyment out of doing this. He stood up and went to get a wet towel to wipe away his spit and any residue of sauce from underneath his sole. Wiping it clean, he started to realize again how good the hot, moist sensation of the sopping wet towel felt against his sole and he started to get hard again. He couldn't believe that cleaning his feet was making him get stiff!
He worked the towel against his foot long after he had cleaned up his spittle and the sauce, letting it massage against the backs of his toes and up and down his soles. He rubbed the tops of his feet with the towel, smearing the warm cloth against his sensitive skin. He dug in between his toes and scrubbed his toenails clean, all the while procuring a very prominent growth in his pants.
Taking his other foot into his lap, he started to rub it down too, despite the fact that he hadn't gotten anything on it. He massaged his left foot with the towel, working it against the pink flesh of his feet, coating his entire foot, toes, sole, and all, with a thin layer of moisture. After he had finished, he threw the towel on the table and began to rub his soles together. It felt really good to rub one of his feet against the other; it created a unique sensation that was definitely, to Gareth's slight dismay, pleasurable. Rubbing his feet against one had caused Gareth to go rock hard, and he decided that since it wasn't going to go down any time soon, he best take care of this problem.
He was about to head to the bathroom when he realized that no one was home anyway, so no one could really catch him if he did it right then and there. Besides, there was an element of danger to it now that made it really exciting. Standing up for a second to remove his jeans and boxers, Gareth Gates was now sitting naked from the waist down in his kitchen, playing with his feet and groping at his cock, ready to cream himself at any moment.
Thrusting his hand up and down his cock, he sat at the table in his kitchen with the soles of his feet touching and resting somewhat uncomfortably on his seat, he began to jerk off, feeling the intense pressure building up in the core of his throbbing prick. Being on the road and spending so much time at the studio, and having no time for a girlfriend, he had found any chance to wank enjoyable, since such times were few and far between with someone who was constantly as busy as he was. He prided himself on his hard work, but for now, he was concentrating most of that energy into getting one off, right there at his kitchen table.
Pounding his hard dick while rubbing his feet against one another, it was hardly any time at all before the cum surged up his cock and spurted out of the purplish irritated knob of his penis. Gareth gasped as his juice gushed out of his cock with tremendous force, sailing in the air before landing on the back of his feet like the pizza sauce had before. A few more staccato bursts of cum had oozed down his hand instead, not having achieved the arc that his initial spray of cum had managed.
It felt really good to get his rocks off like that, but he now had a problem. He had thrown the towel out of his reach when he tossed it onto the table, and getting up would require getting his floors sticky with his own jizz, and he knew that the knowledge that either his parents or siblings would subsequently walk across that spot of the floor afterwards would make him feel very uncomfortable. He had no other way of removing the cum, except...but no. He couldn't do that, that was totally gross. Feet, he learned, he could deal with, but licking your own cum? Not bloody likely! Especially when it's on one's feet!
However, he slowly and sadly realized that desperate times called for some desperate measures. Craning his neck down, he hoisted his foot up and, after deliberating for some time, stuck his tongue out and brushed the tip of one of his globs of cum with it. He instantly drew back, the texture appalling him, somewhat like lukewarm rice pudding but probably fouler-tasting. He decided that he was just going to lick it and deposit it in the sink perhaps, and then scrub his mouth out with as much mouthwash as humanly possible.
Being a trooper and not wanting to back down, Gareth closed his eyes, breathed in deeply, and licked up every last bit of cum on his soles. Once he was positive that he had scooped up every last drop with this tongue, he ran to his upstairs bathroom and spat it out into the sink, though the sticky nature of his cum had made that a bit difficult and strands of still remained trapped under his tongue. He quickly poured himself a glass of water and rinsed his mouth out thoroughly with it. In the heat of the moment though, he managed to swallow a little bit, including a big gulp that contained some of his sperm. He gagged for a bit upon realizing this, until he realized that there was nothing to make a fuss about; he had hardly tasted anything. Still naked from the waist down, he noticed that there was still a little drop of cum clinging on the edge of his pisshole. Using his index finger, he swiped it off and gazed at the drop glistening on his finger for awhile. This seemed to be Gareth's day for experimenting, for he closed his eyes and sucked the drop into his mouth. Rolling it around, he found that the texture still put him off a bit, but the taste was interesting. It was certainly saltier than his feet but there was an erotic quality to ingesting one's own semen that he couldn't deny. He swallowed it back, completely stunned that he had been able to do such a thing.
Heading back downstairs after that debacle, his wet feet gliding across his kitchen floor, Gareth finished off the rest of his pizza and wine and then saw to it that he'd get another glass. Maybe if he drank enough he could wipe what just happened from his memory.
Pouring himself another glass, he went straight back to his computer area. He decided he was going to stay away from such sites as he had seen before from now on, without a doubt. Desperate to find something to distract himself from what had just happened, Gareth typed in the first thing that came to his mind. He knew that his family was planning on taking a train down to the south of France and while there, had planned on doing some sort of aquatic activity as a family. He wasn't totally sure if they'd decided on a specific activity yet, so he decided to type into a search engine information on "water sports."
Looking through the first batch of links, he found nothing particularly interesting. Then he noticed links that contained terminology like XXX and 18+ in the link info or URL, and his curiosity was piqued. Every healthy teenage boy with an internet connection knew what these terms signified. Did people waterski nude now, or something? Clicking on the link, he discovered the actual alternate meaning of the term and was initially horrified to see what it entailed. Clicking out of the browser, which had contained images of a man peeing on a woman's face, he shuddered at the thought of ever doing that to someone or indeed having someone do that to you. Pissing all over someone? That's just disgusting!
He couldn't imagine for the life of him how anyone could find that a turn-on. After all, it's something that people do every day and it comes from your dick. Having tasted his own cum only minutes prior, he assumed that he really wasn't missing out on anything that came from there. Though now that Gareth had emphatically voiced his doubts in his head, he couldn't help but wondering, since he didn't know: what did piss actually taste like?
He imagined it couldn't taste very good, since it was essentially a waste byproduct. All sorts of nasty little diseases could be lurking in there, too, he figured. However, it struck him as strange and not a little thought-provoking that there seemed to be so many websites dedicated to drinking piss or getting pissed on, so surely there's something a little bit appealing to it all?
Torn between wanting to find out and being completely repulsed by the idea, Gareth once again took the side of the intrepid experimenter willing to do anything in the name of science, not having anything better to do with his time. He took one of his family's plastic cups (there's no way he'd use a cup that the whole family drank out of for this!) and filed into the bathroom. Closing the door shut and locking it behind him, even though he had no reason to fear intrusion by his parents or siblings, he stood in front of the toilet like he was about to piss into it. Holding the clear plastic cup in his right hand, just below his cock, and aiming his piss tube with his left, he relaxed his bladder muscles and let flow a golden stream of piss into the cup. The yellow liquid filled it nearly the entire way, and a concentration of foam accumulated at the top, giving it the appearance of lager.
After shaking out the last bits of piss, Gareth held it up to eye level and observed it through the clear plastic of the cup. It certainly did look apple juice or cider or any other golden beverage he'd grown up drinking. He held it up under his nose and was almost instantly repelled by the smell. He was just about ready to ditch this entire idea and relegate it to some sick fetish he found by accident on the Internet, but he had been particularly curious this day and was not going to give in so easily.
Employing a trick he'd learned from his grandma about holding his nose to disguise the aroma of anything that tastes bad, he held the cup up to his lips. He tipped it ever so slightly up, inch by inch, until he finally felt a little splash of piss hit his bottom lip. He recoiled instinctively, the nose pinching not hiding much and the taste so overwhelmingly...piss-like. He really, honestly could not believe he was going to go through with this, nor could he not believe that this was happening despite his better judgment. He lived fairly cleanly but urine is liquid waste; surely this isn't good for you at all? Though he did recall once hearing some doctors talk about urine therapy as a medical treatment, though he dismissed the doctors immediately as sick quacks. Of course, some small part of him was wishing to test his offhand hypothesis.
He tried again, lifting the cup to his lips and letting the piss strike his lip. Again, it was too much for him. The taste that collected on his lip was totally overpowering and noxious. He laid the cup down on the sink and decided this was a fetish he'd let slide. As he was about to pour the cup into the toilet, he noticed the tap dripping and realized that maybe if he watered down his stuff that it would be somewhat more palatable.
Once again assuming the role of experimenter, Gareth turned on the hot water tap, let it run for a bit to heat up, and then filled up the cup all the way to the top with extra liquid. Turning the tap off, he once again held the cup to his lips. Still hesitantly, he tipped it forward and let it hit his lips. The diluted piss did not taste nearly as bad as the first cup had. He sipped again, letting his urine linger in his mouth a little longer. It was still a very curious smell, but now that the taste was no longer as repellent, he found the idea of drinking his own piss erotic, and he was beginning to get hard again despite having cum only about an hour ago.
He raised the cup of diluted urine to his lips again and opened his mouth wider, letting more of the golden liquid flow into his waiting mouth. This time he swallowed it with less hesitation, still grimacing but still in awe of how hot the act was. Another sip produced the same reaction, uncertainty mixed with arousal. He, Gareth Gates, the young famous Pop Idols winner, was standing in his bathroom, half-naked and sipping his own piss from a cup like it was lemonade, and on top of that, it was making him horny as hell!
A trickle of his "homemade lemonade," remembering an obscene playground rhyme from his younger days, seeped down his chin, rolling along his soft skin and dripping down his shirt. The feeling of the hot liquid that came from his own cock dripping on his chest had gotten him hot, and then he remembered that in addition to drinking piss, a lot of guys got really turned on by being covered in it, too. Putting the cup down and stepping into his shower, he removed his shirt and tossed it on the floor, well away from the shower area. Grabbing the cup once more off the sink, he held it up to his chest. Tipping the cup towards him, Gareth let a stream of his golden piss flow in a river down his chest, following his happy trail and collecting in his pubes like dew on grass, with some of it dripping down onto his legs. He relished in the hot feeling of coating himself with his own piss. He poured some more of his piss over his legs, allowing it to trickle down, clinging to the hairs on his strong, supple legs and letting it pool at the bottom around his feet. He once more brought the cup to his mouth and, raging horny this time, took a big sip of it. He gargled and let it leak out of his mouth, flowing over his chin and running down his neck and chest. He was basting himself in urine and it was totally, completely hot.
Deciding to go all-out, Gareth held the cup above his head and tipped it over totally, resulting in being drowned in a deluge of his own nitrogenous fluid. He was now standing in his shower, totally soaking in golden yellow piss from head to toe. He ran a finger over his slick, urine-stained torso and popped it in his mouth. He relished the salty taste and trembled at the idea of even just standing there like he was, soaked in pee. By this time of course, his penis, which had also been coated with urine, was hard as a rock. Lying down in the puddle of piss that had collected under him, he laid on his back and began to move his fist up and down his cock. The stench of urine which had previously put him off now had an erotic connotation for Gareth, and to celebrate his newly found piss fetish, he was working off his second load of the day. Pouring a cup of his own pee on himself was something he would never have considered doing before yesterday, and now it was, along with indulging in his feet (and maybe covertly someone else's), a new private pleasure in which he could revel, whenever he had time.
Jacking himself off with intensity, the buildup of sexual pressure in his organ was begging for a release. His cock was once again primed to burst, and did so with nearly as much force as his prior load. He threw his head back and panted as the cum came soaring out of his cock, striking his piss-soaked chest and running down his right hand, which was now coated in his jism and urine.
Lying on the shower floor, Gareth felt totally content. He couldn't believe what he'd done, but he also couldn't believe that he hadn't done it sooner. He lay on the floor for some time in post-onanistic bliss before deciding that he had to get up. Before that, he scooped up the cum that had struck his stomach with his right hand and fed it to himself, letting it roll around in his mouth with his tongue before swallowing the load whole. He had decided after all that the taste of cum was something he could handle, especially now that he had accustomed himself to his own pee.
Knowing it would do him no good to lounge around the house reeking of urine, Gareth turned on the tap and let it warm up a bit before hitting on the shower. He coated himself with a thick lather of soap, making sure to cover every inch of himself, including his balls and still semi-erect penis, and then shampooed his hair to cleanse it of his own bodily fluid.
Fully clean, Gareth stepped out of the shower and put his red shirt back on, continuing to relax the rest of the day away in bottomless splendor. Stepping out of the steamy bathroom, Gareth decided that he was definitely going to spend the rest of the day all by himself, possibly discovering new kinks that would whet his 20-year-old sexual appetite.
(possibly tbc)