Date: Fri, 4 Oct 2002 01:06:41 -0700 (PDT)
From: Info Calypse <alpha_male@pridepost.com>
Subject: Bang On -(Part 3)-

Disclaimer: All acts below are fictional, and any celebrity figures
contained wherein are of unknown sexualities, and are used in a strictly
fictional and for adults only manner.  If sexual acts between males offend,
please refrain from reading further.

Bang On
Part 3: Lord of the Flies

<I'm going to start where we left off, but for anyone new: Goldberg, Fred Durst
 and Bruce Willis were all just done screwing in the bathroom of Durst's suite.
 Dean Cain (TV Superman) and Jimmy Kimmel (Man Show) are in a hot tub on the
 balcony, the guys filter out with the cover story that Durst and Willis were
 puking, due to earlier partying in celebration of Kimmel's new talk show.  Last,
 Goldberg was supposed to be taking a shower, as per excuse, but he walks out
 to the patio naked...>

	"Cold?"  Jimmy jokes, covering his eyes with his hands.  Dean does
the same and Goldberg just laughs.  Durst shoots him a look, jumps out of
the tub and throws the wrestler a towel.  Goldberg tosses the towel back
and hops into the hot tub.
	"I guess he is one of those guys who strip when they get drunk."
Durst remarks, Kimmel sitting next to him then Dean and then Bruce.
	"Well, we're all adults."  Bruce grins, trying to lighten the air.
	"Well this adult needs another beer."  Jimmy says, getting out.  He
is sporting a drenched pair of boxers of a blue flannel sort.  The boxers,
heavy with moisture, pull down to the very top of his rounded ass.  The top
of the crevace showing, covered in hair that starts at the base of his
spine in that little divot.  Durst can't keep his eyes off of it, and Bruce
kicks him in the shin to alert him of his situation.
	"So what you been doin', Dean?"  Bruce starts.
	"Just that Ripley's show, trying to spend more time with the
family."
	"Tell me about it.  Wife marries you because you're a big star, and
leaves you because you are always on the set."
	"Yeah, but I actually want to scale it back a little."
	"That is how it starts.  First a little, then she wants to try her
hand at it and leave you sitting at home watching Teletubbies and then you
see that ET seems to think that you are in rehab or some shit."  Bruce
grunts at the end.  Glad that his career is no longer subjugated by some
blithering harpy.
	"I'm thirsty.  Want anything?" Durst says, bored.
	"Me."  Bruce says, Goldberg waves and Dean sort of nods.  Durst
gets out trying to keep from looking at Goldberg's hard-on.  Apparently the
big guy is constantly ready for action.  Durst wonders if Goldberg has some
sort of plan, because he doesn't remember him being that drunk.
	Fred walks into the living room and over to the bar, at which Jimmy
is making himself a whiskey sour.  Fred nudges past the husky man and bends
down and grabs four beers, Heineken, the ones he has the most of.  As he
rises back up he notices something, Kimmel is rubbing himself through his
shorts.  Jimmy is staring out into space, but Fred has a pretty good idea
what the hairy star is thinking of.
	"Busy, bro?"  Fred grunts, putting the beers on the bar, popping
one open with his teeth.  Jimmy jumps, and grunts something.
	"Yeah."  He finally manages to emit.
	"Well, you know I can take care of that for you."  Durst says,
quietly.
	"Uhh.."  Jimmy Kimmel mutters, not sure how to respond.  Jimmy has
never been properly propositioned by a man before.  All he can do is gulp
down his drink.
	"First move is yours, Jims."  Durst says, smirking, and pulling at
the back of his shorts.  Kimmel eyes the exposed flesh, rounded buttocks
covered in a fine dusting of hair.  He moves.
				  <<<<>>>>

	"So, how real is that wrestling you do?" Dean asks, changing the
subject.  Goldberg sort of nods, pulling his arms out of the water and
lying them on the edge.
	"We don't get hurt because the throws are all broken.  Like when I
toss some guy by grabbing him and throwing him like so," Goldberg kind of
moves his arms in a fast sort of swirling and grabbing motion," I grab his
cup and he grabs my shoulder.  It looks pretty brutal, but we are all
trained in taking falls."
	"Oh.  Aren't the rest of the things all fake though?" Bruce asks.
	"The stories are scripts, and most of the other fighting doesn't
even connect, and if it does it is very minor.  Still lifting two hundred
pound guys over your head ain't easy."  Goldberg says, flexing his
gargantuan muscles for the two men, who clap.  They all laugh mildly.
	"Do you do your own stunts?"  Bruce says, turning to Dean.
	"Like when I was Superman.  Nah, not really.  They wouldn't let me
do anything that could possibly take me out, I mean they needed me.  You
can't really have Superman with a cast, or a bloody nose.  Half the stuff
was really shitty CGI and ropes.  The rope stuff I did, because they let
me."  Dean explains.
	"Do you do yours, Mr. Action Hero?"  Goldberg jokes, punching Bruce
in the shoulder.
	"Most of em.  Guess only the pretty boys aren't expendable."  Bruce
jokes, splashing Dean.
				  <<<<>>>>

	Kimmel kisses Durst, grabbing his neck and forcing his tongue down
the younger man's throat.  Durst responds in kind, and the two men swap
spit with dueling tongues, fighting for the upper hand.  Kimmel's hand, his
free one, travels down Fred's thick body, caressing his hairy pecs.  Durst
moans deeply as Jimmy pulls on Fred's tender nipples, his hand slowly
moving on.  Kimmel traces the curve of Fred's stomach, the bulge of fat
covered in a overgrowth of hair.  Fred's body shivers slightly with the
light movement of the hand as it slowly, oh so slowly, reaches his
boxer-briefs, filled to brimming with enraged meat.  It is here that Jimmy
takes charge, moving from slow to fast in an instant, pulling down Durst's
boxers and his own in but a second.
	"Up."  Is all Kimmel says, and all he has to say.  As he kicks off
his soaken boxers, Durst tosses his and gets on the bartop.  Fred crouches,
his knees pulled to his chest and his hands on the counter, waiting for
whatever comes next.  Kimmel pushes on Durst's back with one hand, and Fred
immediately gets on all fours.  Kimmel grunts his approval, and eyes his
prize.  A hairy ass and a tight hole to boot, hidden slightly by the large
cheeks of the rocker.  Kimmel goes in to investigate.
	"Uuhh.."  Fred Durst moans, feeling hot breath on his wanting hole
and then the smooth yet rough feeling of Kimmel's thick tongue.  Kimmel
swirls his tongue up and around Durst's opening, flicking at the outside
and then sticking his muscle in as far as it can go.  He tastes something.
Something he remembers.
	"Guess I know what you were doing in the bathroom for so long,
Cap'n" He grunts, putting his face right up to Durst's ear, his hot breath
causing shivers down Fred's spine.
	"Uh.."
	"Well aren't we a fucking slut."  Kimmel mutters, forceful but in a
restricted volume.  Fred begins to protest, but feels the warm slithering
at his hole and decides that maybe that is what Kimmel wants.  Jimmy feels
the tight clamping of Fred, his ass gyrating to meet the invading tongue.
Jimmy's face getting raw from the rough hairs brushing him.
	"Uhh...FUCK!"  Durst's moan turning to a yell.  Jimmy went from his
tongue to his cock in one fluid motion, having stepped up on a nearby stool
when he had stopped just a second before.  The shock of the giant rod
caused clenches that drove Kimmel wild, his libido maxing out.  Jimmy
starts to fuck Durst, who takes it like the professional that he has
become.
	"How's that ten-incher feel, fucker?"
	"Uuhhh...fuckin' good..shit.."  Fred moans, pushing his ass back to
meet Jimmy halfway, screwing himself almost.  Kimmel slaps Durst's ass, a
red mark appearing briefly on his pale skin.  Fred moans louder, grunting
with each thrust of Jimmy's portly glutes.
	"Take it."
	"Uuhh.."
	"Take it."
	"Uhhh...shit."  Fred moans, moving his left hand to the middle, for
stability, and using his right to stroke his pulsating cock.  Kimmel slaps
Fred's ass, but hard this time.
	"Not yet." He growls, and Durst returns his errant hand to
position, focusing on the best fucking he's had in... well within fifteen
minutes.  Although, this only ranks below because a professional wrestler
isn't sucking him off. Can't have everything.
				  <<<<>>>>

	"So, what's with the name change?" Dean asks, running out of things
to say.  Kimmel and Durst are the life of this party and Dean can't really
compete.
	"Yeah, well the World Wildlife Foundation sued us for the rights.
We figured we'd win just because we have been publicly using WWF for so
long.  But, nope, the judge rules for the tree huggers."  Goldberg mutters,
shrugging.
	"Why E, though?  It sounds sort of fruity."  Dean continues, hoping
to get a rise out of the wrestler.  Not knowing he already has, just not
the right kind,
	"The E was always there, we just used to leave it off for look.
WWFE doesn't roll off your tongue, it just looks good on the paychecks."
Goldberg stated, laughing slightly.  Dean looked at the living room,
wondering what was taking so damn long with his beer, but being to lazy to
do anything about it.  Dean leans back, letting the water reach up to his
breastbone.
	"I think I'm gunna go check on what's keepin' them."  Willis
mutters, lifting himself out of the tub using only his arms.  As he enters
the room, "You two hold tight, I'll score us something," shooting a look at
Goldberg, who is pretending not to masturbate under the bubbling water, who
merely grins.  Bruce is pretty sure the wrestler is going to pounce while
he is gone, but is also pretty sure that Dean can defend his own ass.
Although standing between Bill and what he wants is still probably not the
wisest thing anyone could be doing.
				  <<<<>>>>

	"Aahh... fuck.."  Kimmel groans, firing his prod into Durst's ass
in rapid succession.  Durst just holds on for the ride, enjoying the
massage to his prostate.
	"Uuuhhh..."
	"Fuck.. for a slut your fuckin' ass is... uuhhh.. so fuckin'"
Kimmel starts, then sees Willis.
	"Hiya, guess I know what's keepin' the beers."  Bruce smirks, grabs
three of the beers from the counter and the opener from one of the stools,
and walks right on out.  Fred grins to him before he leaves, and Jimmy can
do nothing but continue unabated.  Confused, but only slightly.
	"I think he's getting used to walking in on these kinds of things,
Bro."  Fred mutters, his laughter restricted by the deep-rooted need to
shoot.
	"Must be."  Kimmel says gruffly, returning to his original pace,
trying not to think of what Willis must be telling the men in the hot tub.
Until he remembers that Bruce was in with Durst earlier, as was Goldberg.
That leaves Dean, but he isn't even really a celebrity anymore, just doing
some shitty freakshow on cable.
				  <<<<>>>>

	"What are you doing, the pool making you itch or.." Dean Cain
mutters, asking more out of politeness than anything else.  Although, to
him it does look like... nah.
	"What do you think I'm doing, don't you got laser eyes or
something?"  Goldberg taunts.
	"It's X-ray, and... are you wanking off, you sick fuck?"  Dean
yells, sort of disgusted, but not entirely surprised.  With the cat, as
well as some other things, out of the proverbial bag, Goldberg slowly
stands.  His right hand sliding slowly up and down the shaft of his
eight-inch, thick as a cucumber ripe from the vine.. er, is.. whatever
cucumber's grow from.  His fingers wrapped thick around the uncircumcised
focus of both men' attention.
	"And what do you think you are going to do about it, Supe's?"
Goldberg half yells, deep and guttural.  A wrestling taunt.  Dean sits,
unable to think of the correct way around the rather large man with the
rather large cock in his somewhat huge mitts.  Dean laughs, hoping that the
wrestler is playing a joke, hoping to make light of the present situation,
hoping that Bruce will hurry the fuck up.
	Willis slides the door back open and steps out to Goldberg stroking
his cock, and Dean just sitting there like he is in another room, not
noticing the buff male pulling his manhood mere inches away.  Bruce looks
at Goldberg, who laughs, and then to Dean, who seems somewhat scared.
Scared, but completely inactive.  Bruce makes a split-second decision.  He
drops his bikini briefs to the floor.
				  <<<<>>>>

	"Uuuhhh...uhhh.. harder, man.." Durst grunts, unable to keep his
voice down and no longer really worrying about it.  Hell, most of the
people here have had sex with him at one point of the other, so what's the
use in holding back.
	"Tryin' you sick shit!" Jimmy Kimmel barks, slamming his thick
piece deep into Durst's tight hole.  His pace quickened, fury laden,
proving exactly what a man of his weightclass can throw around.
	"Yeahh.. fuck.. yeah, bro... yeah.." Durst moans, enjoying every
second, even as Kimmel loses his cool.  Durst notices the sign, the thrusts
growing ever more urgent, erratic, and then it comes.
	"Yes! UUuuhhh...hhuhhh..." Kimmel yells, deep from his stomach, his
whole body shuddering as his eyes squeeze shut, and he bites his lower lip,
shooting volley after volley of seed deep up Fred Durst, mixing with the
jizz of two others.
	Still grinding in and out, Kimmel moans slight imperceptible words,
lying on Fred's back as he coasts the wave of ecstasy back down to the
ground.  Slowly, he backs off, his prick becoming over sensitive after such
a workout.
	Fred hops down, kissing Kimmel deeply, tasting himself on the man's
tongue, sweat and come and ass mixing with whiskey and beer, a masculine
taste for sure.
	"Don't think we're done yet." Fred says forcefully to Kimmel, who
grins vacantly to him.  Still high.  Jimmy slowly returns, shaking it off.
	"What?" Jimmy mutters.
	"Me now." Fred makes it apparent, pointing at his red fleshy cock.
	"Oh yeah... well, what do you want to do, cap'n?" Jimmy says,
smirking.
	"Up." Fred says, smiling back as Jimmy grimaces slightly, but
obeys.
	"Can you be a bit careful, some of us are new to this."  Jimmy
says, nervously looking over his shoulder, his hairy cheeks on display for
Durst's amusement.
	"I started tonight, but I'll be sure to show you the same sort of
respect that you showed to me, man."  Durst says sarcastically, rubbing
Jimmy's pert ass and getting to work.
	"Maahhnn, that is some nice shit there..." Jimmy mutters, unable to
exactly word the feeling of a hot tongue swirling around his virgin hole.
Fred sticks as much of his tongue up his compatriot's small opening as he
can muster, and flicks at every nook and cranny as he slowly slides it back
out.
	"Uhhh... don't stop.."  Jimmy groans, the tables turned he acts
like the lesser, wanting Durst to take the lead.  Durst dives back in with
a vengeance, driving Kimmel wild with twists and curls, humming lowly to
send tiny vibrations of bass up as the hairs on Kimmel's back stand on end.
Durst again retreats, placing his right index finger as a replacement,
spreading Kimmel slowly as he pushes his probing digit in and out, Jimmy's
ass squeezing it all the way.
	"Yeah...huhhhh..yeaahh.." Jimmy moans louder, clamping his hands on
the edge of the bar to hold off on the intensity of the feeling.  Durst
slowly pulls his finger out, and replaces it with two.  These are much
harder to enter, pushing them slowly into the tight holster.
	"Uhh... fuck.."  Jimmy grunts as the slide in, his ass
unlubricated, the pain shoots up where the pleasure used to reside.
"Shit.. can you.. do something?"
	Durst moves away and grabs the closest liquid, the whiskey that
Jimmy had been using a second ago.  Jimmy sees this and grins.  Bodyshot.
Durst pours some of the fragrant fluid on his fingers and slides them in,
returning to the bottle a few times to thoroughly lube up the man, then
putting the cylinder aside. Durst returns to rimming the newbee, feeling
the whiskey burn down his thoat, adding to the visceral drive of the
moment.
	"Take me already, man.." Jimmy grunts, impatient to get started
with the festivities.  Wanting to feel the real deal after all of the
prodding.
	"Fine, whatever."  Durst says, slightly angry that his fun got cut
short, although the fun is merely beginning in another way.  Durst places
his hands on either hip, gripping solidly on Kimmel's hefty lovehandles.
His cock slowly rubs the edge of Jimmy's asshole, eliciting a deep growl
from it's owner, anxious to be fucked.  Fred has him right where he wants
him.  His cock plays further as Fred moves the crimson staff slowly up and
down Jimmy's deep crack, his mushroom head sliding across his hairy glutes,
and slowly back towards the middle.  Jimmy grimaces over his shoulder, and
Fred smirks.  With the win marked, Durst returns to the hole, and makes the
putt.
	"Yeahh... fuck that ass.."  Jimmy barks, taking the lead although
not in the leader posistion per se.  Durst continues to slowly move his
giant prod into the tight hole, using the burning liquid as lube.  Durst's
cock screaming in pain at the alcohol, but still he pushes.  Jimmy seems
only happy to oblige, his hole stretching to the form of Durst's thick
member.
	"Hhhuuhh..shit.. now how does that feel?"  Fred grabs Jimmy's
balls, and leans forward as he projects mild anger mixed with pleasure and
amusement.
	"Feels like my ass is going to rip apart.. but fuckin' keep it
comin'."
	"Sure thing, Jimster."  Fred grins, slapping Jimmy's back and
pulling his cock out only to resheath it, at about half speed.  Jimmy
grunts, loud, in pain.
	"Again." Fred pulls out, and pushes it in, same speed.  Slow.
	"A-fuckin-gain."  Fred speeds it to normal.
	"More, you pansy!"  Jimmy yells this time, enforcing.
	"You are the one with the fucking cock up your ass, remember?"
Durst yells back, listening anyway and pounding Jimmy's hole, their legs
smacking as they meet.
	"Fuck.. yeah.. plow that sucker in there.. yeah.."  Jimmy says, his
voice husky with desire, his knuckles white from holding the bar.  With
rhythm bred on the stage, Durst pulses his prick in and out of Jimmy's deep
crevace, holding on to Jimmy's sides for stability.  Jimmy pushes back at
the invasion, swallowing the meat as quick as he can.
	"Uhhh.. fuck.. uuhhh.. keep working that ass, man.. shit.."  Fred
groans, his cock clenched tight inside Jimmy.
	"Go... do it... hell.. yeah.. shit.." Jimmy gasps in a raspy tone,
barely able to create audible language as Fred hastens his pace and
increases his intensity to max.  A loud smack with every thrust, as Jimmy
Kimmel's rounded ass slaps into Fred's thighs and gut.  Jimmy's own gut
rubbing on the counter, smearing sweat on the wood.
	"Huhhh... fuck.. I'm gunna shoot.." Fred grunts, pulling out and
climbing swiftly from the stool to the bartop. Durst stradles Kimmel, who
looks around his back and decides to flip, anticipating the command.
Durst's right hand slides over his thick sausage, spinning up slightly and
then falling back down.  Jimmy joins in and starts slapping his soldier as
Fred pulls on his own balls, hastening the inevitable.  In a few seconds it
happens.  Durst bites his lower lip and his eyes roll into the back of his
head, just before he squeezes them shut.  His face tenses and so do his
muscles, the only movement his arms.  His hand swiping furiously across his
engorged one-eye, his left pulling on the six bars piercing his bushy sack.
And then they stop, as his hips buck forward and the juice starts to flow.
Jimmy, still pulling on his own cock, watches the white cream shoot out,
and it lands right in his open mouth.  There and all over his face, and
some on the floor behind him, and all over his bushy chest and thick head
of hair.  Jimmy feels soaked in the warm liquid, and still it flows from
the thick head of the rocker.
	"UUUuuhhh.. fuck.Ffuuck.." Durst's whole face pursed like his
greatest orgasm was also his most painful experience.  The come flows for
what feels like a minute, and Durst falls down on Kimmel, exhausted.
Still, his arm reaching under Fred's left leg, Jimmy cranks his prick, his
mouth full of Durst's seed.  The taste intoxicating him further.
	Soon Jimmy is close again and shoves his prick up Durst's relaxed
chute, Durst and Jimmy kissing deeply the entire time.  Durst rises slowly,
and stabs himself with Jimmy's meatflute, grinding yet another shot out of
the television star.  Jimmy holds Fred's ample hips and watches in awe as
his cock slides in and out of the hairy hole. Within a couple gyrations,
Jimmy is ready to go again, his balls rising.
	"Aahh..fuck..take it.. yeaauhh.. I'm fuckin' comin'!"  Jimmy
grunts, loud and deep as his legs buck up and he shoot another wad up
Durst's dirty hole.  His face clenched, and then relaxed.
	"Man, that was fucking awesome."  Kimmel says, as Durst lies back
on top of Kimmel, their legs dangling behind the bar.  Durst and Kimmel
swap tongues, spit and come exchanging between newly made friends.
	A crash, a yell, and some water moving violently suddenly occur
somewhere outside.
	"What the fuck was that?!"  Durst yells, rising off Jimmy to look.
	"Got me.  Get your shorts and we'll go check it out, bro."


To be Concluded...

Comments? Observations? Ideas? I take input and I take it well.
Email me: alpha_male@pridepost.com

Sorry, about the wait from last time, but I'm in college and you kinda make
time when you got it.  Just to tell, the person who asked for rimming, hope
you're happy.  Anyone else got ideas for the last one, let me know.  Danken
for the input.
	Infocalypse