Who Do You Love

By Piper

Published on Nov 13, 2000

Gay

Series: Who Do You Love? Part 1 Author: Piper piperactive1@yahoo.com Genre: Boybands (NSYNC), MMMM (yummy! LOL) Rating: PG to NC-17

NOTICE: The following text is a fictitious homo-erotic fantasy. If homo-erotic fantasy makes you uncomfortable OR, if the laws in your jurisdiction prohibit you from viewing material of this nature (like if you're in the USA and under 18) you NEED TO LEAVE IMMEDIATELY and find material more appropriate for you. THANK YOU.

DISCLAIMER: The following piece of fiction contains homo-erotic themes regarding the members of the group Nsync as well as a few other well known celebrities. This author has no association with, or knowledge about, any celebrity, including the ACTUAL members of Nsync and/or anyone else I mention here. I respectfully remind readers that this work is FICTION, therefore, it was made-up in my own sick little head and not representative of any ACTUAL activity, behavior, attitude or preference of anyone. Please honor my right to an imagination as well as NSync's right to happiness and privacy. THANK YOU.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS: I never would have had the nerve to post this without support, assistance, and inspiration from Christine ("Hey Mickey"). Thank you SO much! Thank you all, actually, for reading it too! Do you love it? Hate it? Wanna tell me what's on your mind? Please do! piperactive1@yahoo.com

FOREWARD: This five-part story will cover a wide range of homo-erotica that varies in rating from PG to NC-17. I am not rating each chapter individually, so take the content with a grain of salt. This story is not going to be all PG. In fact, it gets NC- 17 real quick like! Hehe ~ Thanks! Piper

******************************************** WHO DO YOU LOVE? 1: Healthy Hormones

Joey knew it could be risky, but the bus was empty now and probably would be for a while. Just to be sure, he leaned across the tour bus' dining table and spread open the Venetian blinds that draped the windows to confirm his privacy.

His group-mates; JC, Justin, Lance, and Chris, were just outside the bus in a park across the street, practicing their beloved hacky-sack. (And Lord knows the men of NSYNC really needed to practice. Really, REALLY practice, you know?)

Having received the confirmation he sought, a self-satisfied grin spread across the young entertainer's handsome face. If hacky didn't keep those four preoccupied for a good half-hour or so, nothing would.

Thankful and anxious, Joey let the window blinds fall back into place before turning his attentions to the post-meal mess left by the group. When breakfast ended that morning, Joey began implementing his plan for privacy by offering to do dish detail. He knew well enough that his four buddies would assume he stayed behind to scavenge scraps.

"Oh yeah," he giggled aloud, "that's me: the ever-hungry Joey."

Not to imply that Joey wasn't hungry. He was. Most often, however, Joey wasn't hungry for edible nourishment, but instead, for visceral release. Like a man possessed, he was hungry for orgasm.

Considering the public perception of what lengths Joe would go to in order to satisfy his cravings for food, one might shudder to imagine the lengths he would go to in order to achieve orgasm. Much to his surprise, his current plan to return the elusive pleasure absent in his life for nearly a week was working out quite well.

You see, when the group tours, they sometimes use their tour bus to shuttle them between close venues, such as New York and New Jersey. During these times, opportunity to achieve climax becomes few and far between.

There's simply never enough privacy on the bus: their bunks are stacked on top of and right next to each other; they share one very tiny restroom; and they rarely get to leave the bus unless they're at a venue or a hotel. Then, of course, in the hotels, management makes sure to never book any of them in their own rooms.

Somehow, they've learned to live sharing their personal space. Since they've been NSYNC, those five have shared nearly everything: They've slept in the same rooms, the same beds; they've freshened up in the same bathrooms, the same showers; they've even been forced to store their belongings communally, eliminating the last bastion of personal space.

As time passed between them, the five of them came to realize that very little could ever be hidden from one another. Not surprisingly, this arrangement eventually took its toll on the pubescent group members aching to explore the rush of feelings pounding relentlessly between their legs.

Hoping to mitigate a major downside of being on tour, each group member devised one or more elaborate processes to assure, as a rule, masturbation to climax at least once a week.

Joey smiled bashfully when he thought about the group's exception to that rule: Justin.

For Justin, efforts had to lead to more like five plus orgasms a week. Like the spoiled brat he could so frequently be, Justin would bitch and whine and moan, basically driving his peers crazy, if he hadn't had an orgasm in around 36 hours. The kid would masturbate anywhere, any time, with confident lack of concern about being watched! It was amazing!

"Amazing to watch too!" Joey reminisced awkwardly, then laughed at himself.

Ironically, it was Justin's high-octane demands that caused Joey's own elaborate processes to be foiled during his last three consecutive masturbation attempts. But Justin wasn't there right then so this was to be Joey's time. Warming up to that idea, Joey licked his lips and picked up his pace at the domestic duties before him.

Joey rinsed off the last of the dishes from breakfast and moved quickly to the back of bus, to Chris' un-used laptop computer. Chris always let his best buddy Joey use his computer after he was done using it, so Joey figured Chris wouldn't mind if he used it now.

He flipped the laptop's power switch and listened to the mechanical parts inside whirl into action. The screen lit up with a flash and suddenly, Joey was being prompted for Chris' password in order to connect to the internet.

Feeling the need to double check - just one more time - that he was safe and wouldn't be disturbed, Joey's fingers parted the Venetian blinds again and he peeked outside. He saw that nothing had changed since the last time the looked out at his friends, sighed with relief, and began to type.

B U S T A [Enter]

/Password Invalid, Try Again/

"Damn," muttered Joey.

D A N I [Enter]

/Password Invalid, Try Again/

"Double Damn!" Joey said, smacking the side of the laptop, "I thought I knew his password! Did he change it? Why'd he do that without telling me?"

Joey then tried as many words as he could think of that Chris might use as a password. No luck. Frustrated, he managed to laugh as he decided to try each of the group-member's names, starting with Chris'.

C H R I S [Enter]

/Password Invalid, Try Again/

J U S T I N [Enter]

/Password Invalid, Try Again/

L A N C E [Enter]

/Password Invalid, Try Again/

J C... Joey typed and then stopped. Was that too short to be a password? Two letters? Maybe he should type 'Josh' instead?

"Aw, fuck it." Joey sighed. That was too much thinking for him. He hit the Enter key.

The screen went blank and then a new image popped up. Next, Joey heard the unmistakable "You've got mail," chime, signifying a successful connection with the AOL internet service.

Joey was in! But he got in by using the password 'JC' on Chris' computer? That sure was odd. Could it mean that Chris was attracted to men? And as it would seem, not just any man, but attracted to JC?

"Whoa." he whispered aloud as he leaned back, hoping the dawning realization wasn't powerful enough to knock him over. Sweat immediately broke across his brow and he could feel his heartbeat quicken to a dangerous pace.

"Chris?" he pondered, "Likes JC?"

Laughing, Joey realized he was feeling a twinge of jealousy!

"Of anyone," Joey speculated, "Chris should be attracted to me! I'm closest to him. I'm his best friend! Damn it, I'm Superman!"

This thought made him laugh again and also gave him an instant erection. It painfully pressed against his jeans reminding him why he stayed alone on the bus in the first place! Doh!

"Maybe I should take this little party into the bathroom," Joey chuckled aloud as he picked up Chris' laptop, readjusted the aching hard-on in his pants and headed for the tiny tour bus shit-can. Once inside, he slid the accordian door closed and fumbled with the lock, unable to get the latch to click into place.

He grumbled, "We haven't fixed this stupid lock yet? Don't we make enough money to cover the basics?" and then gave up, resigned to the fact that the door was staying unlocked. "Gheesh!"

Disappointed but unfazed, Joey backed up to the toilet and pondered, "I might be able to kill two birds with one stone here!"

There was such little space in this tiny bathroom that Joey found it quite challenging to hold onto the laptop while trying to unbutton his pants and push them down to his knees. He needed to set the laptop down so he perched it precariously on the edge of the sink, holding it steady with his left hand, while his right hand easily yanked open the buttons of his 501's. Wrapping his right arm around the back of his body, Joey then curled his right thumb in the waistband of his Superman boxers and tugged them about four inches down the left side of his hip. His arm then re-wrapped itself around his front side and repeated the motion.

He had succeeded in getting half-naked, but now, there was an obstacle: his growing erection. Gazing (somewhat gleefully) at his boxers tented mercilessly in front of him, Joey feared the sensuous garment might rip should his excitement rise even further. He groaned with anticipation as his hand dove beneath his waistline, hauling out his eager and erect cock.

After a playful pump or two, just to say "howdy," Joey tore his hand away from the growing length to properly conclude disrobing. Moments later, his bare ass was seated upon the bus' toilet. He returned his attentions to Chris' laptop and took care of his morning business.

Online, Joey went straight to his Hotmail account and checked for new messages. Not surprisingly, there was some spam, spam, and more spam. But where was the email Joey was looking for? Impatiently, he continued to scroll down until he found it.

Joey gasped when he read the words. This was too good. This guy not only liked, but believed Joey's fake story about being a fetishist into water sports!

"Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha," Joey chuckled, "Whatta sucker!"

But then he remembered where he was and what he was doing.

He was sitting bare assed was on the pot with a semi-hard penis bending between his legs and a laptop on his knees, hoping to drop an enormous load of crap that had backed up so he could get along with his jack-off session!

"Whatta hypocrite," he laughed aloud at himself, tensed and flexed his muscles, and then reached for the toilet paper.

This routine process had never been sexual for Joey, but today, his senses seemed to be screaming at him. And how could he not pay attention to them? The simple act of wiping himself clean titillated every nerve in his body beyond reason. His skin felt alive, rippling with fire and ice. His cock sprung fully erect and began gushing pre-come from its tip. So powerful was his sense of touch that his other senses seemed to wane, as thought they had submitted to the domination touch was demanding.

Joey had to stay in control. He couldn't and wouldn't succumb to his sensitivities. Not now. No way.

But then his sense of smell kicked back into gear. That unmistakable pungent odor had crept into the air, causing Joey to wince and hold his shallow breath. He even tried re-positioning himself upon the uncomfortable seat, but it was to no avail. His pulsating penis was displaying a mind of its own. (Or, at least, a mind a tad bit farther down the road of sexual exploration than its young owner.)

Almost abhorred by his own primal responses, Joey sprung open his eyes and clamored to focus his attention back to the insistent glowing screen of Chris' laptop.

"I'll get back to dude later," Joey thought while raising his shaky hands to the keyboard.

He used the keyboard's roller-ball to position the cursor over "EXIT" and clicked close his email client. Then he brought up the URL window and typed in the address for the Nifty Archive.

Thankful that was the last time he would need two hands to navigate, Joey shifted to find the most comfortable position possible. His left hand rested upon the keyboard, ready to navigate to the story of his particular choice on that splendid September morning. His right hand deftly reached for the turgid shaft blossoming before him, applying the pressure to pummel it into pleasures beyond compare.

Scroll... Stroke. Squeeze. Exhale. Grip. Scroll... Inhale. Stroke. Squeeze. Stroke. Scroll... Breathe. Stroke. Squeeze. Pull. Tug. Scroll... Yank. Breathe. Pound. Pump. Pant. Scroll... Stroke. Fuck. Jack. Jerk. Groan. Scroll... Faster. Squeeze. Tighter. Stroke. Scroll... Moan. More. Stroke. Faster. Squeeze. Scroll... Pump. Breathe. Faster. Tighter.

Stroke. Stroke. Stroke. Stroke. Stroke. Yes!

Joey's hand was flying over the length of his hard shaft at blinding speed (ha-ha, no pun intended). Soon, the pages he was reading on Chris' computer would scroll no farther. Joey knew then that the end was near. This was a good thing, as he was so very ready.

For the finale, he reached above and behind him to a medicine cabinet over the toilet. The small container of Vaseline that was inside would come in handy right about then.

He smeared a liberal amount of Vaseline on his palms, firmly gripped both hands on his hard cock like a baseball player might a bat, and proceeded with his monkey-spanking moment.

Joey, being Joey, wasn't giving a lot of thought to how much time all of this reading and masturbating was taking him. Had he realized it had been nearly 45 minutes since the rest of the group left the breakfast table to play hacky-sack out in the sunshine, well, things might have been different.

And if things had been different, Joey might have been alerted to the insistent pleas of a person desperately trying to hold back from peeing their pants. But, of course, Joey was Joey, and Joey didn't give anything other than his quest for climax the slightest bit of attention.

So, after two rounds of unanswered knocks on the closed but unlocked bathroom door, Justin decided he couldn't wait a moment longer to release his bladder. He firmly grasped his expectant penis through his soft sweat-shorts in a last-ditch attempt to halt the impending flow and shouted, "I'm comin' in Joey, ready or not!"

Little did he know, Joey was far from ready.

Next: Chapter 2


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