Richard
"Right here, Richard. Over here." Photographs barked orders for me to turn in every way they wanted. Lights blinded me from every angle, but I couldn't shield my eyes because the pictures wouldn't come out the way my agent wanted them to.
Doing as requested of me, I stood in the center if the oddly pink carpet, flashing my killer smile for the masses. Hordes of women and men were screaming for me to look their way so they could get a closer look or a precious snapshot for their cameraphone.
If I didn't know better I would've thought there was a weird scent in the air; the mixture of colognes, perfumes, and natural musks from too many bodies in a small area at once.
Nevertheless, I was attracted these smells. I could sense the desire from these people, and being the attention whore I was, I gobbled it up because I loved it.
I adored it and lived for this.
It was my life.
This life.
The life of a movie star, trapped in this mixed up world of fame and a little fortune. Throughout the years, I'd played the parts of dashing superhero, handsome mobster, as well as intelligent sheriff to delight of millions across the globe.
Every role had been curtailed to show off my bright, Colgate smile that hardly ever wavered.
Except when.
Distracted by my thoughts of my wayward lover, I dropped my gaze from the flashing bulbs of expensive cameras and glanced at my feet. He was nowhere to be found there, but I needed to look away if only to gather myself and forget the loneliness I experienced without him near.
He'd be here tonight though, with his gorgeous wife in tow, while I, the great Richard Thomas, stand alone. Alone, because I didn't wish to be bothered with my younger girlfriend's complaints about the length of the film or when we would go to dinner. I only wanted to enjoy the premiere, and hopefully steal a moment or two with the man I lusted after.
Issak.
If I could get him away from the masses of reporters and fans as well as our fellow stars who wished to get a piece of him as I did. His celebrity star was just as big, if not bigger than mine. He'd been courted the world over by many movie studios, desiring him to play the next anti-hero. He'd played that role so well in practically every film he'd done.
Too well if you asked me.
The man had a mean streak to him that hardly no one knew about.
I was, because many times I'd been on the other end of it, enjoying every minute, as if it were my means to survival.
Issak became my Dom, my protector, and I was his sub and his muse. Until I met him years ago, I had never been into the D/s dynamic, but being with Issak had completely changed my mind.
During our last conversation, he'd told me about the drawing he etched on his personal canvas while visiting the shores of Maui. Issak drew a picture of me, bound and gagged on top of his bed. My ass up in the air and ankles cuffed to a spreader bar to give him access to every part of my body. To loosen me up for his entrance, a butt plug was stuck far into my anal cavity while both hands were tied behind my back. He'd taken a picture of it and sent it to me while I as on the set of my next movie. He promised he'd want to act that scene out the moment we got the chance to be alone again.
When would that be?
I'd asked myself and him the question, but unfortunately, he didn't possess a single answer. From the day he'd sent me that message, I could only think of Issak and what he could do to me.
With thoughts of our rendezvous' becoming more frequent, my girlfriend wasn't interesting enough to hold my interest and many times, I sent her home in favor of masturbating to any Issak Trevett flick I could get my hand on.
That message was sent over sixty five days ago and at this moment I was at my wits end. To work off the frustration of not having my lover near, I worked out harder than before. I ran marathons for charity on my off time. When back on set, I stayed to myself, only so the crews wouldn't chide me for looking like a love lost puppy.
Yes, I had it bad for him.
I wanted him.
I desired him as much as I needed to breathe.
But no, oh no, it wasn't love. I had no problem declaring myself bisexual, but I knew I couldn't love Issak because it would be a detriment to both our careers. Besides, I was no homewrecker. Issak had the perfect family. Brianne was delightful and Issak often joked that we should tell her to see what her reaction should be. Of course, I told him no. The fling between was all I needed to fulfill and satisfy my sexual needs.
When being one of Hollywood's leading men, you have to keep a lot of those things on the hush because the blacklist is not a myth. Tell me, what dashing hunk do you know still gets top paying roles being a sexual deviant?
Issak
"Over here. C'mon, Issak. Show me what you got."
"Ah, Issak, oh my God, I wanna have your babyeeeee!"
If only I could say what was on my mind to some of these crazy people, but instead I had to grin and bear it for the crowds. Don't get me wrong, I loved the little people. All of them, but these open to the public movie premieres sort of unnerved me. After all, I had been attacked by a crazed fan years ago, leaving this oh so precious scar on my chin. Yes, it had become part of my personality. It gave me character. It made me hotter than when I was on Guerrila Heat wearing cutoffs and flexing my muscle around the dweebs on set. Despite the fame that came along with that slash to the face. I had paid a price and believe me when I say, I wouldn't want it to happen again. That lady was mental. She wanted a piece of my skin for her personal collection.
Yikes.
Yeah, I had nightmares for days after that and the bill from the psychiatrist nearly broke me. Now, however, the fans loved me because of that blemish. I've received deeper roles. The kind that gets you appearances at Comic cons and other nerdy conventions. I was Jenoa Bakkaba, I was Devlin on Guerrilla Heat. These roles would cement a place for me in history and make me, a vodka guzzling, basketball junkie a legend in Hollywood.
More than that, being in big time movies meant hobnobbing with actors bigger and better than you. During these meetings of the minds, you could have excellent conversation.
What to do about crazed fans literally stalking you or in cyberland? How many letters you should answer through your fan clubs? What to post on your social media, etc etc etc. I'd listened to advice on all this because my personal agent didn't think it was important. He thought finding my next roles and scheduling my next appearances were, so I relied heavily on my actor brethren to answer all the questions. All of them had been very helpful, especially the hot British man I had my eyes on now.
Tuning out the photographers and fans, I fixated on the gentleman called Richard wearing a gunmetal colored three piece suit with a gold tie and matching handkerchief. Looking at him, I suddenly felt very under dressed, but I was never into formals anyway. The ensemble fit him nice. Real snug, especially around the ass. The fabric hugged his butt cheeks and I salivated at the vision of spreading them wide open to dip my tongue and hard cock in between.
What's that you say? Why am I fawning of Richard Thomas?
