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"All right, that's great! Strike the set, keep that one." he grinned at the two men, clapping his hands together. "Fantastic! Thanks. This is going to be hilarious."

Lol checked his watch; "I have to go. I promised my girlfriend I'd take her out to dinner. See you both later..."

As he was leaving, Robert sprawled out on the mini-couch. "Tim, man, they're never going to buy it."

"Nonsense! It'll be a colossal hit!" the director laughed, clapping Robert on the shoulder. "The world will adore me!"

"We already do." the singer laughed, shoving Tim backward playfully. "Clever dick!"

"Ooh, thanks." he chuckled, plopping down beside Robert on the couch. "How do you handle it? The fame, the groupies, the stress, the groupies, making videos, the groupies, recording songs, the groupies..."

"I can tell where your mind is stuck." Robert laughed, punching Tim lightly on the shoudler. "Horny bastard!"

The director let out a wistful sigh. "Ah yes...I am cursed..."

"...wanker..."

"...and shall forever be, with an enormous cock that will not quit."

"Enormous?" Robert raised an eyebrow, taking off his sunglasses. "I find that a bit hard to believe."

"What, d'you want me to whip it out in front of everybody?" Tim gestured to the camera and lighting crews, which were still cleaning up. "I'm not that much of an exhibitionist!"

Robert laughed and laughed. "I still don't believe you."

Tim snickered softly. "You're just jealous!"

"Jealous!" Robert scoffed. "Of something I've never seen? Go on and pull the other one, then!"

The director poked Robert in the side. "If you want proof, then let's go off and I'll show you!"

The singer grinned right back. "You're on. But I want to get a drink first..."

A drink turned into a few, then into a few hours, and finally on their way back to the studio - Tim had forgotten his coat - did Robert remember their deal.

"Tim..." he said, turning with a bit of a wobble, "weren't you going to show me something?"

"D'you remember what it was?"

"I think it was your willie...how big it was, or something."

Tim snorted with laughter as he turned on the lights and they sat down on the couch again.

"Let's see it then." Roger nodded.

The director unzipped his trousers.

"You weren't joking."

"Nice, eh?"

"Still say s'not big as mine."

"Oh really?"

Robert nodded, undoing his own pants. "See?"

"Liar!"

"No, wait." he began to stroke himself.

"Hey! That's cheating!"

"No it's not." Robert shut his eyes, grinning, breathing a bit heavily. He let out a small groan.

"Not fair." Tim scowled, then crossed his arms.

"Oh, go on! Race you."

"Fine!" Tim began to jerk off as well, biting his lip lightly.

"Come first and you lose!"

"Hey!"

"Then switch off." Robert let go of his own arousal and took ahold of Tim's. The director gasped and groaned, melting under the singer's skillful touches. He almost forgot to deal with Robert's, but he soon started again.

By this time, they were both panting and moaning, faces flushed. Tim was close, very close, he could feel it. He didn't want to lose, though, so he re-doubled his efforts on Robert's arousal, biting his lip.

It worked. With a strangled, choked cry, the singer came, and Tim followed, winning by perhaps a few seconds.

"Ooh! You cheated!" Robert protested, panting as they cleaned themselves up.

Tim yawned. "Did not. You're just a sore loser."

There was a pause. Then - "Tim...this doesn't make us queers, does it?"

Another pause. "I don't think so..."


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