tagCelebrities & Fan FictionCall It What You Want

Call It What You Want


"SHIT!!" screamed Jordan, kicking a bottle of Southern Comfort over in his frustration.

"Number CUNTING two? After we practically killed ourselves for about two months promoting it?"

He took another swig of the new bottle he had just started in his hand before continuing. As he fumed, he flung open the tape deck of the hotel room stereo and grabbed the nearest tape to put on.

"Fuck this Top 40 shit man.... I'm sick of it."

Joe looked up, slowly, his heavy blue eyes trailing a little behind Jordan as he watched his friend pace the room.

The guys had all been drinking since early afternoon while listening to the official charts, but while Jordan's inebriation had left him aggressive and pro-active, Joey was feeling infinitely more philosophical about the situation.

Translation? Little Joey-Joe, J-Bird was too pissed to care. Cover Girl had only reached #2, but they would get their #1 someday. Joe smiled contently and began to snooze.

"We sold our FUCKING souls on every teen TV show in the country and for what? Number two? Fuckers." Jordan looked down to see a red stain forming on his white sock, a small shard of glass fell out of the cotton and he kicked it to the side of the carpet.

Donnie looked up from his beer. He found that lager helped him relax far more than spirits. He chuckled to himself, thinking that if he had been drinking spirits tonight, he'd be the one with a slightly bleeding toe, with no outlet for his frustration. He was also thinking that lager had an unfortunate side-effect; frustration of a different sort. Still chuckling slightly, he tried to subtly re-adjust his ripped jeans. He needn't have bothered.

-- Joe was practically asleep, his head dropping down onto his chest, a thin line of spittle leaking onto his orange shirt from his lips. Jordan was so absorbed in his rage and pain that he wasn't going to notice a hard-on through a pair of heavy denim jeans, no matter how impressive for Donnie's age.

Dejectedly, Jordan sat down, ripping off his sock to inspect for further shards of glass. Happy that he was clean, he reached over and plucked the beer from Donnie's hand (still over his crotch from readjusting) and took a long swig.

"Hey, easy on that man!" Donnie chided. He knew how hard Jordan was taking this.

Although Donnie loved performing and being in the group, he never took things too seriously. It was insanity to lose yourself completely to the business. But Jordan thought somewhat differently. It was his life, he put every inch of his heart and soul into the band and Donnie felt sorry for his pal. They were really holding out for this single to give them their Number 1 they had wished for right from the start.

Jordan passed the beer back to Donnie, trying to ignore the oh-so-familiar growing hard-on in his pants as much as he tried to ignore the urge to giggle for no reason. He resisted neither. Donnie finished his can and flung it to the floor beside the bed. -- Fuck it, the hotel would let them back no matter what -- and then leant back into the softness of the leather couch. He glanced to his left, yawning, and watched Joe's sleepy face for a minute. Joe was starting to snore a little, and Donnie nudged Jordan with his foot.

"Listen man, Joe's snoring. Poor pissed little fucker."

The two sniggered quietly at their sleeping buddy. Unconsciously, Jordan scratched his crotch a little where an itch was forming and was surprised to feel that he was slightly erect. His eyes widened.

"Damn the drink" he thought to himself. He had always had a tendency to get horny when drunk and sometimes resented the fact that his upbringing and morals prevented him from taking groupies. Sometimes the lack of sex was just too much to handle, and it was so difficult forming relationships whilst on the road.

"Right, snap out of it man!" Donnie said.

It was no use feeling sorry for themselves. Always the party guy, Donnie tried to think of something to lighten the mood. He was feeling naughty.

Giggling slightly he gestured to Jordan to stay quiet. J was confused but went along with it, up for anything now that the frustration of their chart position was starting to subside, and needing something to take his mind off it. He knew Donnie could always make the guys laugh with his pranks.

Donnie stood and leant towards Joe whilst undoing his fly. He reached inside his pants and pulled out his semi-hard cock, long and sleek, un-circumcised and as tanned as the rest of him. To himself, Jordan wondered just how Donnie got so evenly tanned all over. Before he had time to dwell on it, he was astounded to see Donnie rub his cock all over Joe's lips! Already moist from Joe's loss of drool control, Donnie's cock was soon lubed up and dripping, and much harder than it had been.

For his part, Joe did not notice at all, he was so far gone. In fact, he did not even notice when Donnie tipped his head back and opened his jaw, slipping his teen meat between Joe's lips. He slowly pumped into Joe's mouth, with shallow but quick pumps.

"Not the best blowjob I've had, but not the worst either!" Donnie said cheerfully as he threw his head back and got to work on Joe's hot mouth.

Jordan stared blankly at the scene in front of him. He wondered if the whiskey was fucking with his head, whether Danny had spiked their drinks or if, indeed, Donnie really was fucking Joe's face. The image swam infront of him a little and he blinked repeatedly to clear his vision -- and the view of Joe slurping on Donnie's cock hadn't changed. J snapped out of it.

"What the fuck are you doing, man???!!!" He said a little too loudly.

Donnie had been watching Jordan's surprise with interest.

"Come ON," he said. "Don't tell me you've never fucked around with a pissed mate like this?" Jordan could honestly say he hadn't but silently wondered to himself if he had ever been the victim of such a game in some of his worse states. He was shaken out of his thoughts by Donnie:

"Well, Jordan?"


"I said, do you want a go? He could probably fit both of us..." Donnie laughed wholeheartedly. As he spoke, Donnie reached over from where he stood, careful not to let his cock out of Joe's mouth, and grabbed Jordan by the waistband of his low dark blue slacks. He pulled slightly to get him to walk towards the pair, and as he did his loosened belt gave way, and his Jordan's pants fell to his knees. He didn't even notice as Donnie slipped his hands into his boxers to free his cock from them. He did notice, however, that Donnie's hand lingered a little too long inside the boxer shorts, jacking his cock slightly before lowering them completely.

Donnie certainly knew his wanking technique; Jordan made a mental note to talk to him once their various hangovers had worn off.

Jordan's cock was longer than Donnie's, but thinner and circumcised. It stuck straight out, a pale contrast from the nest of black hairs surrounding it, maybe just under 7 inches.

Still dazed, Jordan felt Donnie's hand on his ass, pushing him forwards into Joe's hot mouth. As he entered the right hand side of Joe's moist mouth he was amazed that Donnie was also rubbing his butt! Jordan was so shocked, he couldn't even begin to speak. He was even more shocked to find that with every small thrust the two's cocks would meet and touch briefly in the middle of Joe's mouth.

Donnie had been right, Jordan thought; it wasn't the best blowjob he'd ever had, but it would certainly do. Donnie was obviously experiencing the same feelings as his breathing was becoming much heavier and his head was now hanging back again, his eyes rolling up in their sockets. He was pumping into Joe's mouth more forcefully now, caring much less about waking his sleeping friend than about getting off himself.

Finally, Donnie clenched his bare feet in the carpet and let out a deep, throaty groan and arched his back. Jordan could feel Donnie's cock seem to grow for a second next to his, before his own entire cock was surrounded by warm jizz in Joe's mouth.

Jordan stared wide-eyed as Donnie grinned and pulled his semi-hard, dripping manhood from little Joe's mouth.

"Come on J, finish it" Donnie winked. Jordan considered stopping this craziness, but he was too far gone now. He needed to cum, and soon.

He began thrusting into his friend in earnest, desperate to get off. Donnie's hand still guided Jordan in and out of Joe's mouth by pushing on his ass. Donnie could sense Jordan was about to cum, and he knew exactly what to do next. Jordan let out an involuntary, slurred


when Donnie's index finger slipped inside him, and Jordan flew over the edge, knees buckling and almost supported entirely by Donnie's finger. He pumped into Joe's mouth like he was one of the willing groupies outside their hotel every night, not like he was a respected best friend and bandmate.

Finally, the wave of his cum subsided, Donnie's finger slipped out and he sat down, astonished by everything that had happened, out of breath and suddenly very sleepy.

"That was fun huh, J?" Donnie chuckled, evidently highly amused by the look of astonishment and horror which slowly crept onto Jordan's face as he surveyed the carnage in front of him. He laughed even harder when he watched Jordan's face turn green as he rushed to the bathroom.

Joe slept on, oblivious, slowly swallowing drop by drop of his mates' cum.



Joe stumbled into some broken glass as he staggered up out of his chair. He was angry that he'd obviously missed a good time last night judging by the mess around him and the way Jordan and Donnie were spreadeagled on the bed beside him. This always happened -- he always got drowsy after too much alcohol and it looked like last night had been no exception.

His crusty blue shirt proved his suspicions that he'd lost all bodily control last night -- he always dribbled in his sleep, that was why he hated travelling and sleeping on trains. What he didn't know was that the dried dribble on his shirt was also mixed with the cum of two of his bandmates.

Coming back from the bathroom, Joe felt a little more human. His hair still fell lank across his face, getting so long now the curls were almost in his eyes, but his face was splashed with clean water and he'd had a piss (the whole reason he woke up in the first place). He was so thirsty he'd tried drinking the tap water as he'd splashed his face, but it wasn't cold or plentiful enough. He half laughed to himself as he opened the minibar door: as sure as day turned into night, you could be sure that the only item left untouched in the New Kids minibar was the water!

He greedily gulped down the icy Evian, hating that it only came in the small bottles. For some reason his breath was more disgusting than normal today, the many happy returns of last night's Indian mixed with some salty, musty tang which triggered recognition in the back of Joe's mind but no more.

Still a little drunk, he decided the best course of action was to take a shower. Fully clothed.

Normally Joe's shower routine was to get naked first and then to turn on the water, reaching from outside of the tub until the water's temperature was just right, before stepping in and directing the water at his feet until he'd adjusted it more. But alcohol makes experts of everyone, and while the shower was still icy Joe plunged in clothes and all.

He gasped as the cold water hit him, making his shirt cling to his trim body and his tight leather pants stuck to his legs. Deciding that this was an altogether unpleasant feeling, he peeled his pants off and threw the heavy material to the floor of the tub, leaving just his shirt and black boxers. The shirt went next, to the floor of the bath as well before Joe dropped his boxers and stood right under the water, now heating up to a more reasonable temperature.

Joe threw his head back, letting the water cascade directly onto his face and into his open mouth. He ran his hands through his damp curls and brushed them away from his face. He absent-mindedly rubbed his chest against the slight chill of the shower, his hardened nipples erect and causing the water to flow either side of them, around his slight but defined pecs and down to his fuzzy cute belly button. He had a bit of a six-pack but it did not show as much as Jordan's. From his bellybutton there was a definite treasure trail of brown hair down, where the water now continued through his downy dark pubes, to the base of his cock. Considering the temperature of the water, Joe's penis was pretty small at present and hanging limp down to his balls, which were also shrunken up and clinging to his body.

As the water fell over his shoulders it flowed down his smooth, muscular back and over his perfect bubble butt, with just a slight covering of peachy fuzz on it. It then flowed down his hairy legs (a softer, less coarse hair than Jordan's, but definitely more than Donnie's -- Joe suspected he shaved on the sly) before going over his cute big feet and into the plughole.

The shower was really waking Joe up. He still felt like shit, his head hurt and he couldn't anticipate EVER eating again, but he felt more alive. He hated the fuzzy-headedness of early morning hangovers. He'd rather just be sick quickly and get it over with, but it looked like today was not going to be a "sick" day.

He washed under his armpits, feeling the soft hair under his arms and ran his hands briefly over his back before washing his chest. He enjoyed playing with his nipples, they were like funny toys he had decided, amazing that just by touching and tweaking them he could make them harder and more erect, and then by leaving them a couple of minutes they'd fade back to their original state. He had a small circle of fine dark hairs around each nipple -- practically invisible unless you looked close up -- and enjoyed watching them change and move in reaction to the current of the downward shower and his own movements on his nipples.

This attention to his nipples was making him a little hard; Joe forced himself to wash completely before stepping out of the shower, towelling his lovely medium brown hair with the small white towels provided by the hotel. He made no attempt to dry the rest of himself; instead he stared at his reflection in the mirror and admired every bit of the specimen before his bright blue eyes.

He looked again at his pecs and six-pack, liking that he was fit and toned but not overly muscular. Joe never had time to join a gym, but the dancing kept him fit.

As the thinnest of the band (Danny worked out a lot and the Knight brothers were well built. Joe liked being the youngest in the band, and needing to keep up an air of innocence.

But he knew he was more than that, and he knew that thousands of teenage girls (and it hadn't escaped his attention; a few boys too) would kill to have the view that he was having now. He also knew that his cock was responding to his erotic thoughts. He had felt it get heavier and fill with blood as he was touching his body in the shower, but now it was rising of it's own accord, currently about at half-mast, sticking out straight from his body and not yet at full size, thickness or strength. He spread his legs a little and began to rub lower, down to his belly button and then running his hands through his still wet and soft pubes. He tickled the base of his cock a little, being careful not to be too full on just yet, he wanted to make this last. His six and a half inches was not much compared to the other bandmates -- all registered over the 7 mark, he'd heard them bragging, but it was his, and it was hot.

Suddenly thinking about Donnie and Jordan, catching him at any moment made his patience soon go out of the window and before long he was jacking on his cock furiously, desperate to get off. He watched in the mirror as his foreskin flew back and forth over the red, angry-looking knob of his cock, and he reminded himself of how hot he looked. He threw his head back as his orgasm approached, with his right hand he continued pumping and with his left he pinched his left nipple hard, gritting his teeth as his hips bucked involuntarily.

At first, there was nothing to be seen and for a second Joe stopped to note that it was strange that his hips always started cumming before his cock did, and then all coherent thought was lost as the orgasm took over. His cock suddenly got harder than it had been previously, swelled to what seemed twice its size, and the first shot flew out of him and over the hotel's full-length mirror. The second followed soon after and splattered slightly below the first's impact. Joe was in ecstasy, seeing stars with his head still thrown back, his eyes rolling in their sockets, that smile we all know spread across his face. His heartbeat was racing and seemed to be pounding much more heavily than before. His balls had all but disappeared inside his body and his cock was getting sore from all the jacking -- he suddenly realised that his orgasm was over.

His softening cock was still weeping a little cum and without thinking Joe licked off the small amount that had dribbled onto his finger.

It was then that Joe realised what the taste in his mouth had been earlier that morning... he'd had someone else's cum in his mouth!

Hastily grabbing a towel and wrapping it around himself (being a hotel freebie it was small and Joe's semi made quite a bulge in the white fabric), Joe went back outside to confront the others about what exactly HAD happened that night.

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