Yo!! Here's a new story for ya to read and enjoy, I've had the opening scene in my head for a while so I decided to get it down once and for all. Be sure to write and tell me what you think! The address is jack_kea@hotmail.com Look forward to hearing from ya!!
Disclaimer: Fiction. Don't read if you're not mature enough to. This story is not intended to imply anything about the sexuality of any celebrity mentioned.
The Big Brother by Irda Majere
Part I
Ronan Keating was sitting in the living area of his hotel suite in Glasgow, smoking. God, he loved having the afternoon off. No work, no hassle, no screaming girls, no BZ members... And since Viv and the kids were over in Dublin, no nagging wives or crying kids either! Taking a long drag from his joint, Ronan leaned back and closed his eyes, getting lost in the tones of George Michael's 'Songs from the Last Century' which was playing on the stereo at a high volume. It was his favourite 'getting high' record, he sometimes listened to it four or five times in a row when he was wasted.
He sighed. All he needed now was a blow job, preferrably from that new dancer guy....what was his name? Ronan's mind was clouded from the marijuana, but after a moment he remembered. Shaqur. Damn, that boy was gorgeous! Tall, black, PERFECT body.... He had to get his hands on that guy, sooner rather than later. It shouldn't be a problem, most of those dancers were queer anyway. And what bloke wouldn't jump at the chance of sleeping with Ronan Keating? The singer smiled in the knowledge that there were tons of guys out there who would que up for the chance to suck his cock.
The thought of the sexy dancer aroused Ronan, and he soon slipped his hand into his pants, stroking his member as he took a drag from the rapidly-shrinking joint. 'Damn,' he thought as the strokes became faster, 'I need you, boy. Where the fuck are you?'
Shaqur Amaro was homesick. He had never in all of his eighteen years been abroad before, and being so far away from his brother and his friends was killing him. He couldn't remember ever having been apart from Areq for so long, and he missed his brother like hell. He was wandering around the fancy hotel aimlessly, looking for something to get his mind off his homesickness.
'Who could I go see?' he thought as he went over the list of people he could visit in his mind. Not Stephen, he was too....Stephen. Disney just wasn't Shaq's thing. What about Shane? He was cool. And not so bad looking either... Shaqur made his way to Shano's room and once there he knocked a few times. No answer. He waited and knocked again. He sighed. Shane obviously wasn't in.
Shaqur walked off, trying to think of who to try next. As he passed the door next to Shane's, he heard loud music coming from the room within. 'Ronan,' he thought. 'He's obviously in.' He knocked, but got no answer. 'He probably can't hear me 'cause of the music,' Shaq thought and tried the door. It was open. He stepped inside and closed it behind him. The sight before him made him gasp. Ronan was sitting in one of the arm chairs with his hand down his pants, jerking off! The sight was definitely shocking, but also incredibly sexy. 'What am I thinking?!' he thought to himself. 'I can't just stand here and stare!' He was just about to turn around and exit the room, hopefully unnoticed, when Ronan opened his eyes and saw him. To Shaqur's surprise, a smile spread across Ronan's face. He reached out and turned off the music.
"You're here," he said in a raspy voice. It was only then that Shaq noticed the smell in the room. He couldn't quite place it... No. It couldn't be. Ronan couldn't be smoking grass?! Ronan stood up and walked over to the stunned teenager, pulling off his t-shirt as he went. Shaqur's gaze travelled over the hairy but gorgeous body of the older man, and his admiration did not go unnoticed by Ronan.
"Like what you see, honey?" he asked as he wrapped his arms around the taller man's neck. Without giving Shaq a chance to reply, Ronan pulled the young dancer into a kiss, catching Shaq totally off guard. Shaqur gently but firmly pushed the overly eager man away, trying not to think about what was pressing against his thigh.
"Yo, man, calm down!" he said. Ronan just looked at him, smiling. He slipped his hands under the younger man's t-shirt and ran them up and down the well-defined torso. He drew a breath through his teeth and looked straight into Shaqur's eyes.
"Damn, you're built," he said as he slowly moved his hands downward. "And I'll bet you're hung as well," he said as he slipped both hands inside Shaqur's trousers. The smile widened. "Oh yeah."
"Ronan, what the fuck are you doing?!" Shaq exclaimed, removing the other man's hands from his pants. "You've got a wife and two kids, remember!"
Ronan seemed totally uninterested in the statement. Without a word, he knelt down in front of the taller man, undid his trousers and engulfed Shaqur's large member in his mouth, sucking on it expertly.
"Oh, shit!" Shaq said, all thoughts about Ronan's wife and kids forgotten as the blonde quickly brought him to a jolting orgasm. The singer stood up, wiping his mouth and smiling.
"Like that, baby?" he said, placing his small hands on Shaqur's chest. The younger man just smiled. Ronan returned the smile and said: "Thought so. Why don't we go over to the bedroom so I can try out that sexy mouth of yours, hm?"
A lot of sex and a few hours later, Shaqur was lying in Ronan's bed, staring up at the ceiling as the older man slept on his chest. 'What the hell is he playin' at?' he thought. 'What about his woman? I thought they were totally in love and shit!' He sighed. Who gave a fuck about the wife? Shaqur had fallen for this guy, and no bitch was going to ruin that for him. Resting his cheek on the top of the blond head, the dancer closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.
Shaqur felt something wet against his chest, and deciding he needed to know where the wetness came from, forced his eyes open and glanced down. It was Ronan, and he was kissing the younger man's hairless chest, presumably to wake him up.
"Good morning," Shaq said with a smile. Ronan seized the kisses and looked up to meet his lover's gaze.
"Finally," he replied, returning the smile as he sat up. "You're a heavy sleeper. Did you sleep okay?" At this point, Ronan had wrapped his hand around the dancer's shaft and was quickly bringing it to full attention. Shaqur quickly sat up, not minding a little reprise at all. He planted his full lips on Ronan's thinner ones and kissed him deeply while reaching down to lend Ronan a hand.
Breaking the kiss, Shaqur breathed: "Turn around." Smiling, Ronan obeyed without a word. Turning around, he got onto his hands and knees and before long, Shaqur was pounding him hard, bringing loud moans and grunts from both parties.
Stephen Gately was pissed off. He marched down the hotel corridor, heading for his bandmate's suite. When he reached it, he knocked on the door harshly. When he got no reply, he grabbed the handle and marched right in. Ronan was nowhere in sight, but he could hear some tell-tale noises coming from the sleeping area of the luxurious abode. Sighing, the singer went over to the door and knocked, and not too quietly either. He was sick of Ronan playing 'Hide the Sausage' when he was supposed to be working.
On the other side of the door, Shaqur stopped abruptly at the sound of the loud knock. Ronan moaned in protest.
"Don't stop," he ordered, pushing his hips backwards and thus urging his young lover to continue. Shaqur was too close to cumming to think straight, so he did what he was told and continued plowing the older man's ass.
"What?" Ronan yelled at the imposter.
"Ronan, you were supposed to be at the venue an hour ago to practice!" Stephen shouted back irritably. "Louis and Mark are going mental!"
The only sound that came in reply was an extra loud moan, followed shortly by the sound of someone walking around the room. Soon after, Ronan answered the door in his bathrobe. Stephen looked over his shoulder to see who Ronan was 'playing' with this time. Figured. One of the new dancers. He cursed his bandmate inwardly as his gaze moved over to the newly-laid and smiling blonde.
"You better get your ass down there before those guys get an ulcer," he muttered as he turned to exit the suite.
"I'll be right there, Stevie baby!" Ronan said in an high, mockingly cheerful voice. He laughed as he closed the bedroom door, and then turned around to face his young companion. Shaqur was dressing hurriedly; Ronan wasn't the only one who was late.
"It's okay for you pop stars to be late," he said as he put his shoes on, "they're not as patient with us dancers! The choreographer is gonna kill me!" Ronan, who didn't seem to be worried at all in spite of the fact that he was over an hour late, walked over to the stressed youth and wrapped his arms around his neck.
"Don't worry," he purred, "just tell them you were in bed with a pop star. They won't fire you then." Giving Shaqur a kiss on the lips, Ronan removed his arms from the taller man and proceeded to getting dressed, taking his time picking out the right outfit and so making the young dancer want to pounce on him and scream at him to hurry up. He didn't care what the hot shot pop star said, he didn't like to be late, especially 'cause he was new in the dancing crew.
When Shaqur and Ronan finally arrived at the venue, Louis Walsh and Mark Plunkett had reached boiling point. "Where the hell have you been?!" Louis exclaimed as Ronan came waltzing in. But the stuck up superstar didn't reply, he just marched up onto the stage as if everything was in order, grabbed a microphone and started his sound checks without even a word of explanation.