Date: Thu, 12 Apr 2007 00:07:03 -0400
From: James Branson <jimryyan@hotmail.com>
Subject: American Idol Six chapter 3

Thank you for your nice comments and dirty thoughts on the previous
chapters. Sorry it took me a while to get around to this one, I've been
busy. Please let me know what you think of this.

See previous chapters for disclaimers.

-

Top 8 finalist Haley's (known as "the legs" by many fans) boyfriend, Bobby,
spent most of his time at his job in Texas, but he did enjoy making periodic
trips to see her on the show. Haley had always loved being on stage and had
spent many years being in front of judges and getting harsh but fair advice.
Haley had had to learn the hard way that American Idol was not a very fair
show, and indeed, the judges often dismissed her, insulted her, and even
forgot her name. Many a time during his visits, Bobby's beefy shoulder would
be filled with Haley's tear stains.

Bobby stayed strong for her, but he was becoming more and more pissed off by
the way she was being treated. Finally, after the latest performance show,
where the judges had practically chewed her up and spit her out, Bobby had
enough.

After the performance show, he left Haley alone in her room (her roommate
was allowing her the room to herself that night, since he was in town) and
went to confront the producers, the judges, anyone. He really just wanted to
hit something. He went to the floor where he thought the Idol crew was
staying, but on his way out of the elevator, he was intercepted by Ryan
Seacrest.

One look at Bobby's face told Ryan he needed to calm him down. One look at
Bobby's body told Ryan he needed to get him naked and ravage him. Bobby was
the definition of "cornfed" - tall, with a handsome yet manly face and short
brown hair, tapering off into a staggeringly ripped chest and arms, not to
mention a succulent lower torso packed into tight jeans. Ryan hated Haley at
this moment. What did she do to deserve this slab of beef served on her
plate morning, noon and night?

Once Ryan mentally wiped the drool off his chin, he went back to the most
important task, which was calming Bobby down. Ryan managed to steer him into
Ryan's room for a lengthy talk. But first...

"You seem so tense. How about a massage?"

His nostrils still flaring, Bobby took a moment to figure out what Ryan was
asking.

"Come on, man. I know that sounds so gay, but really, I just want to calm
you down."

Bobby finally nodded. He was tense, and he'd rather have a massage than go
punch that arrogant Cowell and get arrested.

"Lay down on the bed, and take off your shirt."

Bobby wasn't sure of this part, but he didn't care enough at this point to
argue. Ryan had already been massaging his knotted shoulders through his
tight black shirt, and he was very skilled. Bobby slipped off his shirt and
laid on the bed.

Ryan sucked in a breath as he ogled the straight, muscled back splayed out
below him. He straddled Bobby's backside, not bothering to disguise his
rapidly expanding erection, and began unwinding Bobby's tensions. Gentle,
yet insistent fingers, exploring that gorgeous, unblemished straight boy
flesh.

Bobby was in such nirvana that he barely noticed when Ryan reached around
and unbuckled and unzipped his jeans. His jeans and boxer briefs pooled
around his ankles as Ryan began pushing down on his bubble butt, the pert
flesh the only pale part of his body. Ryan gave him a brief smack before
parting his cheeks and shoving his tongue up Bobby's tight asshole.

THAT was enough to get Bobby to react, but with surprising strength, Ryan
kept Bobby's arms pinned on the bed while he rimmed his hole. A finger
joined his talented tongue, and Bobby began squirming from the love shown to
a place no one had ever dared to touch him. He thrust his cock against the
hotel bedsheet with faster and faster strokes.

Quickly, Ryan flipped him onto his back, his jaw dropping at the fat 9
inches Bobby was packing. Damn, Haley was a lucky bitch. Ryan had so many
designs on that donkey dick, but instead just started sucking the mushroom
head into his mouth. Within a few minutes, he'd swallowed almost all of the
huge girth, shocking Bobby's sweaty, trembling countenance.

With a roar, Bobby shot his cream in Ryan's mouth. Cum dribbled from Ryan's
cheeks, but he scooped the seed up in his fingers, greedily licking away
every drop. He leaned over to kiss Bobby, a gentle kiss, the first time
Bobby had ever tasted his own cum.

Ryan then stood up, throwing Bobby his clothes.

"Uh...man, this shouldn't have happened, I don't know what the fuck happened
or what you did but..."

Ryan nodded. He didn't have the time to fully indocrinate Bobby into the
ways of gay sex, and he had a feeling he wouldn't be all that successful.
Besides, he loved kicking clueless, hot straight guys out of his bed.

"Thanks, Billy. And good luck to Stacy."

Bobby glared as he put his clothes on.

"Bobby. And her name's Haley."

Ryan just politely nodded, not caring. He was horny as shit and he needed
some action soon. He knew just where to get it.

---

Speaking of action, the top 8 performance show had a surprise visitor. Tom
Lowe, the blonde British adonis who had been eliminated in the Hollywood
rounds. Tom was a hot guy with a good personality and nice voice. He was
also openly gay, which is why many believed he wasn't let through. That he
had once done male escorting, complete with nude photo online, probably
didn't help.

He had been in a group with Blake during the Hollywood rounds, and they'd
swapped more than just song selections. One of his favorite memories was a
drunken hotel romp where Blake had fucked him so hard he was barely able to
walk the next day.

He knocked on Blake's room, or what he heard was Blake's room. He couldn't
wait to see his fuck buddy again. As soon as the door opened, Tom slammed
the other man against the wall, his tongue shoved down the other man's
throat.

Only after a moment to come up for air did he realize the other man was not
Blake, but Chris...Richardson? Yeah.

"Blake has good taste," Tom thought to himself. Chris was going to explain
he and Blake were together, but Tom put a finger to Chris' lips as his other
hand worked on Chris' fly. He didn't care who was fucking who or who had
true love forever. He just wanted dick. Now. and that's what he was going to
get.

The back of Chris' head thumped against the wall as he was deep-throated by
Tom. In a frenzy, he stripped naked and tore Tom's flimsy blue T-shirt off
his chest, reaching down to cup Tom's massive pecs and bulky biceps. Tom was
currently shoving down his own jeans and jerking off his long, thin, uncut
cock.

The door opened again, and this time it was the man Tom had expected, Blake.
Blake didn't even raise an eyebrow to what was going on, instead sliding out
of his clothes at record speed, naked save for a stupid cap tipped to the
side, as always. Tom grabbed Blake's big dick and started blowing him
simultaneously with Chris. Blake and Crhsi moaned as they felt their cocks
slide against each other in Tom's warm, wet mouth. They made out and groped
each other.

In another flash, Blake yanked Tom up by the shoulders and shoved him onto
the bed. He threw Tom's legs over his shoulders, sensing that Tom wouldn't
need lube. Sure enough, Tom had been fucked by some hot guy in the audience
during a bathroom break, so he was ready to go. Blake got in with two good
thrusts, and started plowing that velvet glove he so loved. Chris settled
into a 69 with Tom, hungrily chewing Tom's lengthy foreskin while Tom sucked
him off.

"Let him taste your sweaty ass, Chris."

Chris complied, and in time with the savage thrusts Blake took out on his
ass, Tom's tongue dove straight into Chris' hot hole.

Soon, Blake came, buckets and buckets, letting Tom know how much he'd missed
his hungry manhole. Tom then blew his load all over Chris' innocent face,
while Chris ejaculated on Tom's massive chest.

They licked the cum from each other's bodies, sweaty and tired, but far from
finished.

"So I guess this is where I say hullo?" Tom said, with a dirty grin.

Blake and Chris laughed.

---

Meanwhile, in an elevator, Simon was ready to get to his car and get home.
He didn't have any company, except for Sanjaya. Sanjaya wasn't all that fond
of Simon, in part because Simon trashed him every week, but now that Simon
wasn't so negative to him, Sanjaya was less resentful.

To Simon's surprise, Sanjaya wasn't looking at him with anger. Or
indifference. He seemed to be looking at him with lust.

The elevator doors opened, and Simon left, wondering what Sanjaya was
thinking about, and wondering why that thought had made him hard...