Disclaimer: This story is about young men having sex together. If that's not your thing or you're too young to read it, please leave now. The author has written this purely as a work of erotic fantasy fiction, and implies no specific knowledge of the celebrity personalities who are described. Enjoy!
BOTTOM, VERSATILE, AND TOP CHEF
by Backlash29
Ilan Hall sat in the overstuffed chair of his luxury hotel suite, arms crossed, pouting. It had been four hours since he and his co-stars had arrived in Maui, and the seaplane that would take them to the competition didn't leave until the next morning. Elia Aboumrad, his closest remaining friend in the competition, was sleeping off her jet lag, while Sam Talbot--who had promised to call Ilan after they got checked-in--was nowhere to be found. The longer he sat alone stewing, the more convinced he became that Sam was instead spending time with Marcel Vigneron, Ilan's fiercest competitor and everyone's sworn enemy on the show.
Eventually, Ilan even got mad at himself for being mad. Why did he care if Sam and Marcel were spending time together? For that matter, why did it matter so much what Sam was doing at all? Since the two men first met, months earlier, Ilan had felt an unusual attraction to Sam. Being straight, and knowing Sam was also, Ilan denied the attraction at first, and then finally acknowledged it as a harmless "man crush."
Still, he found himself upset that Sam wasn't willing to call him or see him yet during this momentous trip. A jealous person by nature, Ilan allowed himself to get worked up more than ever recently...first, at Marcel's baffling advancement in the competition, and now, at his possibly diverting Sam's attention and allegiances away from Ilan himself.
"Fuck it," Ilan said finally, getting up from the chair. "I don't care. I'm going to track down Sam myself."
He went first to Sam's hotel suite, and knocked on the door. No response. He then thought of checking Elia's room, but just as he passed Marcel's door, it occurred to him to try the knob. To his surprise, it was open, and he let himself inside.
The suite was huge (even bigger than his own, Ilan grumbled) but immediately on entering he heard the sound of some kind of muffled, murmuring activity far off in the space. Shutting the door silently behind himself and proceeding slowly to the edge of the foyer, Ilan peeked around the corner and was shocked and titillated by what he saw...
Sam was half-collapsed on the sofa, completely relaxed, wearing his white chef's tunic, which he had pulled open and draped over each side of his sweet, lightly hairy chest. His standard checked kitchen pants were lowered to a pile at his ankles, and his meaty Sicilian legs were splayed open wide. Kneeling before him, in a subservient pose, was that unmistakable mass of poofy hair--Marcel. Ilan watched the hairdo move briskly up and down, directly between Sam's thighs. Marcel was eagerly sucking Sam's cock.
"Oh yeah...yeah man..." Sam repeated over and over in his trademark understated, bored tone. "Good boy."
Ilan hated what he saw--he had no idea how jealous he truly was of Marcel until that moment--and yet, inside his own pants, his cock also grew immediately hard. He reached down to touch it, and that movement caught Sam's eye across the room. Sam looked at him blearily, his brow raised in curiosity at first, but momentarily he simply flashed Ilan a weak half-smile and picked up the pace of mouth-fucking their obnoxious little friend.
In a daze, Ilan approached the other two. He started to mumble: "Man, how can you do this...I don't believe this..." but he realized that he just sounded bitchy, so he shut up. Sam continued looking him deep in the eye while getting blown, and Marcel just ignored him completely, as if the two of them were still alone.
Soon, without breaking stride, Marcel hoisted Sam's legs up, and moved his face down to the taller chef's balls, and from there to his musky crack. Sam really started moaning loud as Marcel rimmed him. This made Ilan hornier than he could bear, so he finally stripped his own fly open and began pulling on his cock.
"Mmm, nice man," Sam said appreciatively, eyeing Ilan's firm eight inches. "Bring it on over here."
So Ilan knelt on the sofa, and a second later Sam had inhaled his whole cock deep. Ilan sucked in his breath with surprise. Sam had clearly sucked some cock before. Then Ilan looked down at Marcel, and for the first time the two enemies' gaze connected. Marcel's beady eyes focused on Ilan, and he watched the effete stud receive Sam's blowjob while his own tongue flickered expertly and endlessly up inside Sam's tasty ass.
After a while of this, Sam spit Ilan out. "Alright, today you guys both gotta fuck me," he announced.
Ilan was aghast. "You get fucked, too?"
"Damn right he does," Marcel replied in that nasal, cocky whine that made everyone want to hit him. He was already on his feet, adjusting Sam's legs so he could remove the checked pants and spread the hunk's legs wide. "I caught him takin' Cliff's big black bone one fine day back in Cali. Cliff went nuts, and got kicked off the show after that. So I been Sammy's substitute bone ever since."
Ilan was incredulous as he watched Marcel reach into his fly and produce an enormous ten-inch cock. It looked like a baseball bat, except that with all of the pre-cum dripping out of it, it was fully lubed. The little runt pointed the big dick at Sam's tender ass ring, and effortlessly pushed the whole thing inside.
"Yeah Sammy," he cooed appreciatively. "You like that big dick. Don't ya. Fuckin' slut."
Ilan was wide-eyed. All at once, it made sense. What made Marcel so cocky. Why Sam always deferred to Marcel, whenever Ilan and the other contestants went on a rampage about wanting the little shit kicked out.
And a moment later, as Marcel kept up his dominant dirty talk while slam-fucking the obviously experienced cum hole of a very appreciative Sam, Ilan also realized why he had hated Marcel so much. It was because he wanted the diminutive hack to do exactly the same thing to him. Exactly the same thing.
Losing all control, Ilan dropped his pants and abruptly bent over on the sofa next to where Sam slouched on his back. He pressed his naked ass into the air, begging:
"Oh, fuck me next--Marcel...please...I need it, I want you to fuck me...so bad..."
Marcel sneered. "Wait your turn. Sammy likes it good and deep. You gotta wait while I breed his fuckin' hole."
So Ilan did wait. He remained in his submissive position, his winking virgin hole pressed straight up into the humid Hawaiian air. Part of the way through the nearby fuck, he felt Sam grab him roughly and pull Ilan toward him for a full-on kiss. Ilan was stunned at first, but then melted into Sam's embrace. The whole while that they tenderly made out, the contradictions just fueled Ilan's desire. For a couple of studs like them to be kissing was already unnatural. For them to do it while one of them gets fucked by a little bitch like Marcel, and while the other one is impatiently waiting for the same treatment, was patently absurd.
They kissed for several minutes, their lips only parting to allow Sam to moan deep and soft at Marcel's heavenly intrusion. Then, Sam whispered to Ilan: "You better sit on my face first."
Ilan looked puzzled. "Huh?"
"I know you've never been fucked before. Trust me, it's gonna hurt, and Marcel doesn't like to use lube unless it's something from the kitchen. Sit on my face, and I'll rim you good with some of my spit."
Ilan dashed to the nearby bathroom to completely clean his hole. When he returned, the copulating couple seemed close to their final throes. Hurriedly, Ilan climbed over Sam's sexy body and squatted over his handsome face, relishing the squishy feeling of Sam's tongue coating the inside and outside of Ilan's perky ass. As he rode Sam's tongue, Ilan watched Marcel's formidable tool go in and out inches in front of him, pistoning and plunging harder and harder into Sam's hungry hole.
"Oh fuck, fuck yeah..." Marcel burst out suddenly. "Oh fuck, take my fuckin' load Sammy, you fuckin' slut..."
As Marcel came into Sam, Ilan felt Sam's tongue drilling ever more deeply into his ass, softening him up for Marcel's next fucking. He also felt the heat of Sam's low, ecstatic moans as he pressed his face between Ilan's cheeks and squealed at the pleasure of receiving the big gooey load from Marcel's gigantic boner.
"Arright, it's your turn, bitch," Marcel said to Ilan as he pulled his dick out and stepped our from between Sam's spread-eagle legs. Ilan obediently climbed off Sam, and figuring it was part of his duty to help restore Marcel's spent hard-on, he dropped to his knees before the boy, preparing to suck the flaccid dick back to a state of arousal, so that he could feel it fucking his own sweet, juicy ass.
"Nah, fuck that," Marcel grunted, spanking the half-hard cock against Ilan's pretty face. "It'll get hard again on its own, don't you worry. I wanna watch you add your load to Sammy's ass here. He said he wanted us both to give him a good fuck."
Hardly believing he could have this much luck in one day, Ilan stepped over to the position held by Marcel until moments earlier. As he stood between Sam's legs and reached down tentatively to pick them up by each muscular thigh, he looked at Sam's face for some direction. Sam just smiled his same macho half-grin.
"You'll do fine," he said softly. "Just find the hole, and go in. It's kind of like with a girl. Only...different."
And with that, Ilan managed to find Sam's cum-lubed hole, and push his own rock-hard eight inches into it. The entry was both smooth and sticky, given Sam's apparent talent for this activity, and Marcel's recent dollop of carbon-based lubrication. Ilan felt how good it was, and then how REALLY good it was, and before he could help himself, he was squirting his own cum into Sam's hole--all in under on minute.
Marcel guffawed. "Figured you wouldn't last long," he jeered to his #1 opponent. "C'mon, get over here. Let's get you fucked."
In one frenzied motion, Ilan withdrew his still-raging hardon from Sam's loose ass, and then bent over once again on the sofa to offer up his own tight version for its first-ever fucking.
He felt Marcel slap him on one cheek, hard. "Get it down more, where I can fuck it," came his command.
It made sense--Marcel was short, and Ilan's hole was too high up in this position. He learned this way how and why Sam seemed to prefer taking it in the missionary position. Dutifully, he bent his knees more, putting his eager hole into firing range. Then he felt Marcel's fat cock at the entrance to his hole, and a moment later, he felt the big head push itself inside.
"Ye-ee-eoo-ouch!!" Ilan protested, but Marcel simply spanked him again and kept on pressing in. Sam, ever the resourceful one, jumped in to the rescue, reaching down and scooping some of other men's fresh cum from his own leaking ass, and rubbing it around the area where Marcel's cock was making its way into Ilan's virgin ass. This helped Marcel reach bottom inside Ilan's ass, and he began making a few in and out strokes. Still, it obviously wasn't enough to give him the smooth-but-tight fuck ride Marcel was expecting.
"Sammy, beat off your load onto this whore's ass," Marcel commanded, pulling his dick out of Ilan.
Sam obeyed, yanking on his heretofore neglected nine inches of prime New York beef, and shooting a nice big load within thirty seconds onto the upper part of Ilan's crack. He and Marcel used their fingers to scoop up the load and press it into Ilan's hole. Ilan, for his part, reached back with both hands to clutch his tender ass cheeks, pulling them as wide apart as possible. Soon, Marcel was back inside him, pounding away.
Now, it felt more comfortable, and a moment later, it felt absolutely fantastic. Ilan whined and moaned like a screaming banshee, out of utter pleasure and shock and outrage at this turn of events. Reality seemed apart from everything he now knew. He was getting fucked. By Marcel. Using Sam's cum. And loving it.
Marcel whooped and came in Ilan, but still Ilan begged for more. He tried getting Sam to fuck him, but Sam insisted that he only fucked girls, and so with men he was always on the bottom. So Ilan had to settle for sucking Sam's big, tasty cock and getting Sam's sperm inside his body that way, while Marcel took two more turns fucking and cumming in both their asses.
When it was over--for that day--Ilan knew he was a changed person. He was a willing cum dump, a whore for men's cocks. He was bisexual, like his fellow male competitors. And he was forever submissive to Marcel. No matter what else happened, or how the show ended up, every day from that day on he would crave Marcel's big cock inside him, and he would daydream about unloading his own cum into Sam.
THE END
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