THE PRICE OF FAME
By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM
Charley had his final meeting with the producer of the movie that afternoon. He was just there, as I understood it, to work out a few of the details, but he had the part, and what a part! Second only to the star of the latest action picture, and plenty of screen action and a chance to showcase the things that could make him a real star in his own right. Charley had been working on it for so damned long, and I'd been watching him on his climb, the parts on the stage plays, the attempt at Broadway that washed out and left him washing dishes for a year and a half until he could make it out to Hollywood, and I'd moved with him when he moved. I wasn't into the movies, but I was into Charley and my job, I could do it anywhere. Data entry clerk. Not exciting, but it was a living, and I could count on an active social life in Los Angeles.
So I went with Charley for the next three years, while he got parts, a scene in a television show here, a few lines in a movie there, then a show wanted him back for a four-part character, a love interest for the second female lead on the show, he got a good ten minutes on one of the shows, and that got him the reading for this part. Call-backs like crazy, this one for make-up, that one for body shots, the next one for dialogue, the next after that for...you get the idea. Now it was his last call-in, and it would be sign on the dotted line here, please, Mr. Flanagan and we'll be done. And his check from all this would be in the seven figures. Oh, yeah, Charley was on his way up! Not that he didn't deserve it, he worked like hell on the parts he got. He would be working for like a year on this movie, doing fourteen hours or more per day. He would be pouring out so much energy every day that he would come home and crash. He wouldn't...need me as his roommate any more. I flinched at that, data entry doesn't exactly make for the easy life. But I would begrudge him that, I could go out and find myself a reasonable priced single, maybe closer to downtown Los Angeles, near the new Metro line so I could ride the Red Line downtown to work....
The key in the lock broke off my meanderings and Charley opened the door. Large, square face under curled black hair and dark eyes, a vision of hot Irish stud still running pure after four generations in America, over a body he had drummed through an hour or more of exercise every day, to build it up, build it out, make it shine and make it fill out those t-shirts and bulge those biceps even in repose. And his chest was a thick fur that made you want to run your fingers through it, though I knew they'd already told him he'd have to shave for the movie. I hoped to find out when he was going to do it, try to save that fur from the trash, put it in a plastic bag and keep it as a keepsake. Not sell it, no, but maybe I'd run my fingers through it now and then like I longed to do it in real life. "Hi, there!" I said as he stepped inside.
Charley looked at me and his eyes were troubled. "Hi." he said to me.
"How'd it go?" I asked. It wasn't supposed to be an important meeting here, as I understood it. The producer had to sign off on him as the choice for the part, of course, but....
"It's not good."
"Huh?" I said, concerned. Charley had poured out several weeks of his life here, he was short on money, I knew, from all the meetings, he didn't get paid for these things, they were part of the part he was trying out for, a long, tormented sort of job interview. But they chewed up time and chewed up availability for other parts. But he'd lost jobs at the last second in the past, it didn't totally explain the perplexed, no, the pole-axed look he had on his face.
"The producer and I talked today."
"Yeah, I know that. He didn't like you?"
"No. No, he liked me a little too much, in fact." Charley said. "He had me in a sort of little office, just a couch and table in front of it and some potted plants and art on the wall. He sat next to me on the couch and started talking about the part and then he leaned in closer and...."
"And he got a little too frisky." I concluded for him.
Charley dropped his face into his hands, just mortified. "I can't believe it." he mourned, "I just can't believe it!"
"So what happened?" I asked.
"I pushed him back. Said I admired his work as a producer and wanted to work with him, but I couldn't do this."
"Good for you."
"And...."
"And he told you you didn't get the part?"
"Not entirely." Charley managed a sort of half-grin. "Said that he knew this was sort of sudden, but I had to realize how Hollywood worked, and given how much money he was about to invest in me, he had to know that I was committed to the part."
"And?" I said when he stopped at that.
"And said that I was to come back tomorrow afternoon and if I wasn't ready to, uh, show him how committed I was, that he would have to look elsewhere for the part of Lieutenant McGivers."
"Ouch." I said. Just the word. "So what are you going to do?"
"I don't know!" Charley moaned. "God, either I let this bastard screw me, or I give up the part that could...God, the part that could put me right up at the top! I've read the part, it's Emmy-caliber material, Roger, Emmy! Jesus, I win one of those, or even get nominated, I'm working for life!"
I was quiet for a time. "I can see how you'd be tempted."
"He's got another guy up for the part." Charley sighed. "The guy's good, real good! The only thing that sets me above this other guy is that the producer has been speaking up for me. I heard that from the director, not the producer."
"You do it and the guy will own you." I said. "You don't think he's going to settle for one time with you. You'll be on that series set for what, a year...."
"Ten months."
"Ten months of hopping in his bed whenever he wants you." I went on. "Are you ready to do that? Even for this part?"
"It isn't that easy." Charley said to me. Moaned, actually.
I started to keep at him ("a prostitute is a prostitute" was going to be part of my next sentence), but I bit it off. "I guess it isn't." Then I remembered something he'd said. "So just what is he asking you to do with him?"
"I told you."
"You did?" I reviewed the conversation so far in my head. "He wants to...." I couldn't bring myself to finish the sentence.
"He wants to fuck me." Charley confirmed. "He wants to 'pluck my cherry,' he says."
"Cherry?"
"I tried to fend him off by saying I'd never done it." Charley went on. "And I haven't."
"Oh." I knew Charley was straight, but he'd always been comfortable enough with my gayness that I figured he'd at least tried it. "That makes it extra rough." I said.
"Yeah." Charley paused. "He said he'd be gentle with me. Not let it hurt."
"It will." I said. "It always does, the first time. If you don't really want the guy who's fucking you, it hurts a lot." I knew that from personal experience! "My first time was miserable, so I didn't do it again for nearly eight years, and when I did it again, with a man I was in love it...it still hurt, but it was so much easier."
"I know, you've told me that before." Charley paused. "Roger?"
"Yeah?"
"Would you do it with me?"
"Huh?"
"Would you do it with me, tonight?" Charley paused again, then went on almost fiercely. "I may end up doing it with that bastard, but I'm damned if I'm giving him my cherry!"
"Oh." I was silent for a time. Sure, I'd had the hots for Charley in my earlier years, but I'd gotten over that. Too much of a friend for me to go messing it up by making a play for him. Besides being a straight guy (I'd had plenty of evidence of that!), I wasn't nearly as good-looking as him, oh, not ugly, but when you set a Porsche beside a Honda Civic, you don't have to be told which is prettier. And which one would win in a race! I was out of my class and knew it.
"You'll have to teach me what to do." Charley went on. "I mean, I never even considered doing this before, I don't know what to do..."
"Stop, stop!" I said. God, I was trembling! "Charley, do you understand what you're asking me? What you're wanting of me?"
"I'm asking you to make love to me." Charley said. "I figured you wanted to, I mean, you kind of stare at me every time I come out in my underwear to get a drink and you're in here. I expected you to just sort of jump at the chance."
"It's not that!" I said. "Jeez! Charley.... God, I just don't know!"
"What's the matter?"
"Charley, if you and I do this...well, things won't ever be the same between us again. I mean, we'll have done it, and what happens after that? Are you going to start hating me? Move out, never talk to me?" I turned around, not able to face him.
"I don't know." Charley had the grace to be honest. "But I know this, Roger, if you don't do it, then the producer gets to take my cherry instead. I can't turn this down, I just can't! I've worked too damned long, a chance like this doesn't come along twice in your life! It's the price of fame, and I hate paying it, but I got to do it. I'm asking you...." Charley reached out and put his hand on my shoulder. "I'm asking you to not let him be my first. Can you do that for me, Roger? I promise I won't hate you."
"You say that now." I said hopelessly, but I turned and put my arms out. "Sure, I'll do it. I just hope we don't both regret this after."
"Thank you." Charley said and he stepped into my arms and his went around me and we kissed. For the first time in our lives, from when we'd first met at the age of seven to now, nearly two decades later, Charley and I kissed. All the things we'd been through together in our lives, all the anguish of my coming out, the travails of his fumbling discovery of girls and dating and losing his virginity, my own first excursion to a gay bar and home with a guy, God, that'd been such a terrible experience, I hated it and hated myself and Charley had been there for me. Now that he needed me for his first time...how could I say no, no matter what the price would be? He was paying the price for fame, and so would I. But it was Charley's fame here, so I'd pay it!
His lips were as soft and warm as I'd always dreamed they'd be. I felt myself trembling all over again.
"Don't be afraid." Charley whispered to me as he let his lips slide over to my cheek and off. "It's all right."
"I'm not afraid." I whispered back. "I'm not afraid at all." And I held him even tighter so he could feel my erection poke him in his abdomen. I was slightly taller than him.
"Neither am I." And Charley's prod rubbed against my leg, his way of saying that it was okay, he wanted this, he would do this with me, it was his choice to do it.
"The bedroom." I said in lieu of "thank you" or anything else. "We have to go in the bedroom."
"Then come on." Charley stepped back from me, took my hand in his, and led me toward my bedroom.
Inside there, we undressed ourselves, Charley's motions were as frantic as mine. Get the clothes off, get them off anyway, anyhow, just remove them, get naked, now, now, now!
I had concentrated on my clothes, looking down. I finished as I pulled down my briefs and then I looked up, to see Charley nude before me.
This is how the gods must have looked to the Greeks, who strove to represent them both in their own bodies and their statues. They couldn't improve upon the design, they could only reproduce it faithfully and hope in that reproduction to reach that perfection.
Charley had been working on that perfection, he wanted every line of his body to breathe beauty in every motion he made. He had labored on it for years, his body his own marble to sculpt into perfection. His hairy chest was just a part of all that, the hair on his arms, the hair on his legs, all spoke that this was in fact a man, in fact real, not marble, not bronze, not stone, not resin. Real. He was real.
He smiled and that Gallic smile was one that could pierce your heart when aimed at you. I'd never developed an invulnerability to it, never, he could talk me into everything and anything with that smile, it was why I'd moved to California with him, why when he couldn't make the rent, I'd pay it myself and never say a word about being paid back (but he always did, even if it took months), and now that smile was saying, "Come make love to me."
And I obeyed, my cock jutting out in front of me and he saw it and his grin grew and he reached out and as I got close enough, he reached out and grasped it, and I gasped! "Never saw it hard before." he observed. "Nice one." And he moved his hand back and forth, stroking my cock, readying it.
"Thanks." I groaned. "But if you don't stop that, I'm going to shoot all over you!"
"Mustn't have that." Charley agreed.
"You, on the other hand, can come whenever you damned well please!" I said and dropped to my knees and caught his dong in my own hand and guided it to my mouth.
"Ah, ah, ah, jeez!" Charley groaned. "Oh, Roger, shit, yeah, suck me, suck it!" he got hold of my head in both hands and began to hump at me. God, his prick was fat and thick, but this was my chance with him, maybe the only time I'd ever get, and I didn't fight him, just let him drive that mighty Irish pud all the way in and all the way down! Charley made hot, heavy-like panting sounds as he fucked my face.
When it was a spit-slicked column of steel he was driving at me, he pulled out, panting hard and he said, "Now I'm hot enough, let's get to fucking!"
"Lube's in my nightstand." I said.
"I know, I've seen it." Charley said and he fetched it while I wondered at this. Charley had no reason to dig about in my bedroom. But he got the lube, squirted it in his palm and knelt and began to grease up my pud and I forgot about it. Maybe he'd been looking for an ink pen or an extra condom or something. I had Charley working lube on my pud, so I could shove it up his ass! You can overlook a lot for that!
"That ought to do it!" Charley said after a time. He had a pretty thick coat of it on my cock, so I nodded and watched him lie back on my bed, raise his arms and his legs, so that he resembled an upside-down table. "Come and get me!" He grinned up at me.
I had to grin back. "This isn't going to be that simple." I pointed out. "You're a virgin and so this is going to be slow and painful. Keep yourself as relaxed as you can, and don't fight me. Just try to relax and think of anything to keep yourself as hot and horny as you can."
I knelt by the bed between Charley's legs and he lowered them to rest them on my shoulders. Charley was laid out beneath me, a vision of golden skin decorated with arcs and lines of fur that laced his body with decorations of ebony yet didn't obscure the beauty that lay beneath. I was going to need some inspiration myself, here!
Charley was indeed a virgin, but when my glans pressed against his anus, he just gasped and didn't move. I pushed in and felt his sphincter clutch, then open for me. My glans slid inside and caught. But it was a beginning.
I took Charley's cock in my hand and began stroking it. My saliva made it a bit sticky but with a hot Irish stud in my bed and my cock in his ass, a little stickiness was nothing to me, I pumped him and Charley moaned and his ass relaxed and I pushed in some more. Now I had an inch or so beyond my glans inside of him. As I jerked Charley, he seemed to take more inspiration and his ass relinquished more and more territory for me.
Soon, I was more than halfway inside of him and judged this was deep enough. I could open the rest of the way as we went along.
So I began to slowly, gently, fuck Charley's ass. He grunted and moaned as I did so, his strong, beautiful body moving in tune with mine. And more and more of my cock went inside of him.
Soon, my slow strokes were sliding my entire length into Charley. I could feel the slight bulges of his prostate as they rode on top of my pud in my motions, and knew that they were showing Charley the delight that stroking them provided, and he moaned even more lustily, deep, throbbing sounds as I pummeled his pud and rammed his ass faster and faster. Huh-huh-huh-huh-huh-huh-huh!
"Ah, ah, gah, Roger, I think I'm coming, I think I'm coming!" Charley moaned and his hands on my back stopped their gentle stroking and the fingernails drove into my skin. "Ah, ah, ah, shit!" and he clenched his ass on my cock and his own prong sprayed me liberally with hot, white jizz!
I'd made Charley come! I'd made this big, hot, black-haired Adonis jet his jizz and squirt his squibs and they were now splattering, splashing spunk-loads that clung to my stomach and dripped from my navel and it was Charley's sperm and I had made him shoot it....
And, oh, God, now I was coming! Charley was squirming and thrashing under me, lost in a tremendous climax and I saw him in his ecstasy while my own clawed my brain and thundered in my ears and flashed in my eyes and drowned out everything but my delight and I threw my head back and roared and my cock exploded, ejaculating heavily and warmly inside his bowels, and I crooned and lowered my body onto him and onto that warm, warm fur on his chest and I felt my wads dribble out of his butt around my dong and soak my ballsac.
"Ah, ah, ah!" I heaved my breaths into Charley's ear. "Damn, that was good!"
"It sure was." Charley agreed, a husky murmur like the wind in the leaves of the oak tree outside my childhood bedroom on a warm summer's evening. "You got my cherry and you got it good!"
"Better me than him, huh?"
"Damned right." Charley agreed. "Thanks. You're a good friend."
"You're my best friend, Charley." I said and held him fiercely. "Please don't forget that. Please!"
"I won't." Charley said. But he rolled me off him and got up and gathered his clothes and went to his own bedroom and closed the door. He didn't come out again until well after I was in bed myself. And he was gone when I woke up in the morning.
I spent the longest day of my life, then. I'd look at the clock every ten minutes, to find only two minutes had actually passed. Then it was afternoon and I knew that somewhere, Charley was off getting fucked by the producer. I had no mental picture of him, but I visualized the pot-bellied sort, with a floral Hawaiian shirt and sunglasses, and absolutely no class. And he had Charley in his arms, and Charley was moaning like he'd moaned for me. The thought of that burned my stomach like acid, so of course my brain played it for me over and over again.
I got home and there was Charley, sitting in the chair watching television. He looked up at me and grinned. "Hi, there!"
"Hi." I said. "So...how did it go?"
"Pretty good." Charley stood up. "I got the part and we start production next Tuesday."
"Six days to kill, huh?" I said. Tonight was Wednesday.
"Yeah." And Charley came over and took me in his arms. "But we'll find something to do. I got an advance on the contract from my agent, enough to live it up before I have to go."
"Nice." I said, and then, because I had to know. "How was it? With the producer?"
"I didn't do it. I turned him down."
"But...but you said you got the part!"
"Yeah." Charley said. "The producer was pissed and I figured I was lost, but then he caught himself and said he understood and no hard feelings and all that. I left and that was that, the agent called me before I could get back to his office to report that I'd lost the part to tell me that they had sent over the contract and come on by to sign it."
"Oh." I thought this over. "So we did it last night for nothing, then, huh?"
"I wouldn't say that." Charley kissed me, a sudden, surprising motion. "You made me very happy last night. Incredible."
"Oh. I'm glad."
"So am I." Charley kissed me again and this time, I was ready for it. "I think we should celebrate."
"Fine with me. Where do you want to go?"
"We'll start with your bedroom." And Charley let go of me and his hand took mine like he had the night before.
Dumbly, hopefully, I let him lead me to my room once more.
Who knew the price of fame could pay such handsome dividends?
THE END
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E-mail the Author at Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM