THE GENTLEMEN'S CLUB
Elliott

Written by Lady Poetess
egiggles at moose-mail.com
http://www.asstr.org/~bbp

Please do not reproduce on any website without permission. This story has no 
resemblance to anyone dead or alive.

ONE

Christopher Robert Evans was in a good position in life, at least on paper. He was a 
popular fitness and physique model who had recently leapt from the pages of underwear 
catalogues and fitness magazines to star in a high profile and widely publicized 
advertising campaign for Health Matheson, one of the biggest bestselling health product 
lines in the world. Compared to the few nude shots he did when he was starving and 
needing to find a way to pay the rent, his chiseled physique on display on billboards and 
magazine ads made him feel like he had finally landed his own American dream. He had 
a comfortable amount of money in his bank account that he couldn't finish even if he 
wanted to, he was inundated with acting offers, and while he wasn't tall enough to model 
on the catwalk, he was getting modeling offers from reputable fashion houses nonetheless 
for their print ads.  

The press loved him for his boyish good looks, well-honed physique, and his keeping-it-
real attitude. When Chris Evans said that he never did drugs even once in his life and he 
drank as little as possible (and only at social functions), he meant it. His only vice - apart 
from good-looking men - was a weakness for all kinds of cakes. And, of course, he had 
all those fan mails. Once, they were vulgar propositions from men and women who 
enjoyed his sex-themed photos in those so-called gentlemen's rags. Now, apart from the 
usual letters and emails asking him to fuck their brains out, there was fan mail from 
genuine health enthusiasts, fitness professionals that admired his clean-living stance, and 
fans who wanted genuine advice as well as his cock in every orifice in their bodies. Chris 
felt like a real and respectable famous person, kinda like those experts on talk shows like 
Oprah that people liked and respected. 

Chris was also often called naive, in a good way, by the press, with descriptions of his 
naïveté often coupled to mentions of his honesty, down-to-earth manner, and a keen 
intelligence that make his naïveté part of his charm. Chris, however, didn't really 
understand that part of his appeal even if he read those articles about him because... well, 
while he might be smart enough to get to where he was right now, he was nonetheless a 
simple and open person with very little concept of grey in life. And yes, sometimes he 
wasn't the smartest person around, a fact that he would openly admit, just like the fact 
that he dropped out of high school. That aspect of him, who loved to have his life neatly 
categorized in simple black and white categories, was the one thorn in his current life.

He wasn't enjoying his fame as much as he knew he should be. 

Sure, he liked the fact that he was getting laid... well, not more than previously since he 
never had a problem in getting laid even when he was some nobody in Massachusetts. He 
was a good-looking son of a bitch with a great body, a thick cock, and the stamina of a 
young bull. But while he get laid more than an average guy on the street, he was often 
restless and even dissatisfied with the rush of the orgasm was over... like he was missing 
a big puzzle piece that prevented him from seeing a big picture of some sort. The feeling 
intensified and reared its ugly head more often now that he'd seen how his current 
employer Cameron Matheson, once a big playboy, managed to give up his playing the 
field to remain blissfully content with a geeky bookworm that lived next door to Cam 
once upon a time and ended up capturing the handsome rascal's heart. 

Whenever Chris woke up next to some guy he'd fucked and would forget about in a few 
hours time, he remembered that one time when he dropped by Cam's office late to 
retrieve his bag that he'd left behind and saw Cam and his lover Christien Anholt slow-
dancing to the ballroom music that Christien liked, oblivious to all but each other. Chris, 
who had begun to see Cam as his role model since Cam was once a physique and fitness 
model like Chris, was struck by the expression on Cam's face as the man gazed at 
Christien whose cheek was rested on Cam's chest, over the heart, with eyes closed. Cam 
looked like he'd been pierced in the heart with a knife but he was so fucking happy even 
as his heart was bleeding openly. Chris knew that Cam never even looked at another man 
even when Cam had plenty of opportunities to cheat on his lover and Chris had 
sometimes wondered how Cam could remain so true and so absolute in his love for an 
average-looking geek. When he saw Cam looking at Christien like he would walk 
through hell if that was what Christien wanted of him, Chris started to understand a little 
why. 

On the other extreme was Cam's business partner Nicholas Wechsler. Nicholas 
intimidated Chris a little at first but once Nicholas warmed up with Chris, the man 
revealed a wry and often sharp sense of humor that could get Chris laughing every time. 
Nicholas was fucking his personal assistant as long as Cam had been sleeping with 
Christien. Unlike Cam who was easy-going and charming, Nicholas was guarded around 
people. He was intense about everything, but his intensity blazed like a sun when it came 
to Danny Nucci. Cam told Chris that once, Danny was nearly run down by a drunk driver 
during a night out at the bar. It was Nicholas who ended up with two broken legs because 
Nick didn't hesitate to push Danny out of the way and put himself in Danny's place as a 
result and was hit by the car in the process. Danny took Nicholas' boxing gloves and 
pounded the crap out of the drunk driver a few days later, so he was as crazy as Nicholas 
when it came to defending each other to death and taking the blow for each other's sake. 
Chris envied those two.

Chris was only twenty-four but now he felt like he had been missing out on some key 
puzzle pieces in his life that eluded him for so long. Maybe it was because he started 
fucking too early and had too many sexual encounters that they stopped being special to 
him, because now he was intrigued to the point of obsession of the possibility of finding 
that one man that would complete him and fill this empty feeling in his soul like his 
bosses had found theirs. 

Which was why, without a glance at the man that he'd picked up and fucked and was 
now snoring in his bed, Chris switched on his PC and checked his email. He had resumed 
reading as many of his fan mail that he could, discarding the sexual ones aside after a 
brief glance to pay more attention to those that sounded more normal. He was started to 
crave for friendship more than sexual encounters nowadays, and his fan mail allowed him 
to start some correspondences that had become some kind of friendship, like his 
correspondence with the health buff and physical trainer Lane Carlson that had him 
hanging out with that man and the man's friends sometimes. Lane was a good-looking 
son of a bitch but he was also in a relationship that he had no intentions of losing, which 
again made Chris intrigued with the possibility of finding his own right man. Chris knew 
that it wasn't wise to correspond and get too attached to fans, especially when many of 
them could be crazy, but he couldn't resist replying to those emails and letters that 
weren't too outright sexual, crazy, or outrageous. 

But he was human, and he could make mistakes, he supposed. He was composing a 
response to one Elliott Yamin, some guy a year or two older than Chris but who found 
Chris an inspiration for him to start getting in shape. A few months ago, Elliott said that 
he was deaf in his right ear and he was also diabetic, and Chris inspired him to try and get 
in shape. "All my life I'd either been bullied or pitied," Elliott had written, "and now I 
think it's time I take control of my life and make myself feel better if others won't." 
Recently, he sent Chris a pair of "before" and "now" photos. Chris saw a man who some 
people who immediately consider ugly. But to Chris, Elliott was the most beautiful man 
he'd ever seen. Elliott's "before" photo showed a rather scrawny man playing with a dog 
while the "now" photo showed Elliott with considerably bulkier physique with abdominal 
muscles, pectorals, and shoulders that were starting to be sculpted nicely. Would Chris be 
considered crazy if he admitted that he had jerked off frequently to that photo of Elliott in 
baggy knee-length shorts? There was nothing sexual about that photo but Chris thought it 
was the sexiest thing he'd ever seen. So much so that sometimes he imagined that the 
man he was pumping underneath him was Elliott. 

Elliott's birthday was this Saturday and conveniently enough, he had been laid off for 
two weeks now and had nothing much to do for his birthday other than to send up 
resumes and feel depressed about life. Therefore he had no excuse to avoid Chris when 
he showed up at Elliott's doorstep to give Elliott a birthday party the man would never 
forget. Chris smiled as he composed a response to Elliott. He'd let his visit be a surprise.



TWO   

Elliott Yamin closed his eyes and pretended that he was playing guitar for Melissa 
Ethridge as he sang along with her in his room. He only opened them when he heard the 
buzz from his PC alerting him on an incoming email. With an intense eagerness that he 
wasn't proud of, he quickly pounced on his PC and opened his email program. Sure 
enough, it was another email from chris@chrisevansfitness.com. A part of him cynically 
suggested that the emails from this "Chris" could easily be from some staff member that 
was having fun with Elliott, but Elliott really didn't care. It was a harmless kind of 
fantasy to believe that the real Chris Evans was writing to him, a fantasy that allowed him 
to believe for a while that he mattered to someone other than his own family members. It 
had been a long time since he felt that he was worth something and not just some 
awkward fuck-up that amused people only as a clown of some sort. For so long he could 
only be someone's friend or lover by joining them in mocking his looks and weaknesses, 
he'd love to indulge in a conversation that doesn't have him laughing with other people 
about his own weaknesses. He often didn't really feel laughter in his soul, and he never 
knew until too late just how much he had eroded his own self-esteem by going along with 
them about the joke that was Elliott Yamin. The kid who couldn't hold a serious job, the 
kid who dared to dream to be someone when he was clearly a screw-up, and the kid who 
was only amusing as the class clown - that was Elliott Yamin to these people and by 
joining them in their amusement in his attempt to fit in with them, he had started to 
believe those things they said about him. 

It was nice that Chris would write so early in the morning of his twenty-fifth birthday. He 
would spend the rest of the day walking on air, which was a birthday gift he would 
always cherish from Chris. Sure, he was in lust with Chris. Who wouldn't be? The man 
had the body of a Greek god, he wasn't afraid to sport a hairy chest when he was not 
doing some photo shoots, and he was so humble and down-to-earth in those TV 
interviews that Elliott fell in lust with that man from first sight. He'd bought those fitness 
magazines not just for his workout and diet tips (which he preferred to get from "real" 
nutritional textbooks anyway) but also to make his jerk-off sessions much more 
enjoyable. That catalogue of pornographic photos that Chris did a few years back that 
Elliott paid a few hundred bucks for from eBay had to be laminated so that Elliott could 
easily wipe his come off them whenever he jerked off to them. Hey, he wasn't proud of 
what he did but it was Chris Evans that he was jerking off too. Surely there was nothing 
undignified about paying his homage to such a sex god like that? 

"Get ready, El, because here I come! I'm typing this before I head off in my friend's 
helicopter to your place. I'll probably be there by the time you're reading this since I 
deliberately set the delayed sending function for twenty minutes. Yup, we'll have a fine 
birthday for you. Tell your mother that she won't be seeing you for, oh, this one week or 
so. PS: Cancel all your plans," Elliott read. 

And as he gasped in disbelief, he heard the sounds of a helicopter approaching his house 
as well as the surprised gasps of his mother and sisters.  



Chris was even better-looking in real life and up close, Elliott thought, still dazed by the 
events that happened in the last hour. Surely, he'd thought in the past, the real Chris 
Evans wouldn't be as perfect as the airbrushed pictures in those photos. Elliott was 
wrong. The real Chris Evans was a little pale but there was sure sign of him working on a 
natural tan, there were a few freckles on the man's cheeks that Elliott found endearing 
and maddeningly kissable, but other than that, that body was still as sexy as Elliott's 
photos of Chris and the man's smile was as devastating. Hell, Elliott was starting to 
believe that they probably only had to airbrush Chris' freckles in those photos! 

Compared to the man in his presence, Elliott felt more self-conscious than ever about his 
lack of looks and he wanted to shrink into the helicopter seat. Meeting this hunk should 
be the happiest moment of his life but Elliott was instead very uncomfortable and even 
embarrassed about his face, body, and... well, he was embarrassed about being Elliott 
Yamin. 

He was so used to being the brunt of jokes and mockery that he failed to realize that Chris 
was watching him with desire and not scorn. Therefore, he was caught off-guard when 
Chris broke the ice by telling him, "You look even more gorgeous than your photo." 

Elliott was so shocked that his instinctive response (he was a naturally witty fellow, he 
just didn't have the opportunity to use and fine-tune wit), "Shouldn't I be the one saying 
that?" came out in barely understandable stutters. "You find me gorgeous?" he finally 
managed to say in a croak. 

Chris frowned in surprise. "You don't think you're gorgeous?" 

"I..." Elliott had to pinch his cheeks, earning him a shout of laughter from Chris. Chris' 
laughter was so infectious and, to Elliott, so wonderfully free from mockery directed to 
him that Elliott found himself laughing along. They laughed, roared actually, and kept 
laughing until Elliott had to stop to breathe. And Chris breathed with Elliott. "Why am I 
laughing? God, what am I doing?" Elliott asked aloud. "I'm not normally as dumb-
sounding like this."

"And I don't normally do this," Chris confessed. "You're the first person that wrote to 
me that I'm meeting."

"You think I'm gorgeous." Elliott narrowed his eyes. "This is a joke, right?" he 
demanded now as he became more able to think clearly. "No, wait, you aren't really 
Chris Evans, you must be some look-alike sent by those fuckers to play a trick on me. 
How the hell did those guys know that I am a fan of yours? Never mind. Send me back 
right now. I've had enough of all your jokes and - oh!" 

Chris silenced him the best way he knew how: with a kiss. It was supposed to be a simple 
graze of lips, but once Chris felt Elliott's lips on his, there was no turning back. The 
teasing scrape of Elliott's beard against his face only intensified his sexual awareness of 
that man, driving Chris to deepen the kiss by slipping his tongue between Elliott's 
stunned lips. Elliott was stunned at first but he was soon responding to Chris by kissing 
Chris back hard as their tongues tasted and seduced each other, Elliott's flimsy defenses 
melting with every caress of Chris' tongue and fingers on his body. He was wearing 
baggy shorts that were easily pushed down enough by Chris to expose his fleshy buttocks 
for Chris to cup and knead sensually. Elliott's trembling hands pressed against Chris' 
pectorals, the heat of that man's skin searing Elliott's palms through the thin fabric of 
Chris' shirt, before the sudden and painful penetration of a thick hard cock into his ass 
caused them to clench and dig into Chris' skin. Elliott cried out in disbelief and delight as 
Chris' cock forged deeper into his ass. Their fucking was primal and frenzied as both 
men wanted for now only to come as soon as possible to slake their urgent lust. Elliott 
threw his head back and gritted his teeth as he began riding Chris like a madman while 
Chris thrust his hips hard to drive his cock into Elliott savagely again and again. Finally 
they both climaxed violently, Chris spurting his molten ejaculate with each relentless 
thrust of his throbbing cock into Elliott as Elliott's own cock jetted his hot creamy fluids 
like a furious volcano until his semen rained onto their cheeks, down their necks, and 
down to pool at the juncture where their bodies were joined in their intimate dance. 

"You are gorgeous," Chris whispered as he held Elliott in his arms while they both 
breathed heavily. 

And Elliott, despite his cynicism, couldn't help but to believe that. Chris' raw lust for 
him, uncontrolled and primitive, spoke the truth about his desirability to Chris far more 
than any pretty words could. The fact that Chris' cock was fast hardening again inside 
Elliott's pleasantly ravaged anus was a testament to Chris' honesty. 

"I can't believe that I've just been fucked by you," Elliott said in awe.

"Well, I'll just have to convince you some more, I suppose," Chris said in mock despair. 
He pushed Elliott down and mounted Elliott as Elliott shouted with laughter. As he began 
fluidly fucking Elliott again, he made Elliott believe again and again. 




THREE

They watched the sunset and had a picnic, completely in the nude, while enjoying the 
breeze of the Canadian Rockies. As they licked peanut better and jelly from each other's 
lips, they learned that Chris loved Queen and Elliott was crazy about Melissa Ethridge 
and the Indigo Girls. After their hands had played with their come-slicked cocks and they 
had to suck each other off to cool down, they threw a blanket over them and snuggle for 
the night beside the fire. 

"I like reading your emails," Chris said as he rested his chin on Elliott's shoulder and 
held the man from behind as they lay there on their shared sleeping bag, Chris' front 
against Elliott's back. "But hearing your voice is better."

Elliott chuckled. Earlier he had sung some songs to amuse Chris and it did his ego some 
good to have Chris looking pleasantly surprised to enjoy his singing so much. He found 
himself slipping into the old Elliott Yamin clownish self, only this time he wasn't making 
fun of himself to amuse others as much as he was being free to be himself. Now, when he 
was quiet, Chris allowed him to be quiet, liked it even, and Elliott realized that he was 
free to be at peace with himself for the first time. Chris knew of Elliott's awkwardness 
around people because Elliott never hid anything from Chris in his emails. But where he 
was at first terrified that Chris would realize fully what a loser he was when Chris saw 
him, Elliott now felt more at calm with himself and Chris. Chris hadn't stopped touching 
Elliott since seconds into the helicopter ride and now, they both knew that once they both 
recovered from their latest fuck, Chris would be driving his pulsing cock into Elliott's 
eager asshole or mouth soon enough again. Elliott always had a voracious sex drive that 
he never had the opportunity to fully indulge, but with Chris, he never had to worry about 
never getting enough from that man. What he wanted, Chris would give and more. Chris 
even didn't mind that Elliott had his baby fat still as the man with the body of a Greek 
hero kissed Elliott's gently curved belly hungrily before teasing Elliott's less than supple 
pectorals, nibbling and biting gently Elliott's wine-dark nipples. One day, maybe Elliott 
would finally build his body, but he knew that Chris wouldn't mind if Elliott never 
managed to do that. How could a man so beautiful be so accepting of Elliott's humble 
physique? Elliott didn't know the answer but he would always be grateful for this, his 
best birthday present ever. 

As Chris snuggled up to Elliott and whispered into Elliott's ears about nothing and 
everything, Elliott realized that Chris was just what he appeared to be - someone without 
too much emotional issues. He was a content middle-class fellow who happened to do 
good thanks to genes and opportunities that made him more fortunate than most people 
like Elliott. If Chris retired the next day, he would just be happy being running a store. He 
made friends easily, he didn't judge, and he didn't have Elliott's cynicism that one could 
easily believe that Chris was indeed a simple person. Perhaps Chris needed Elliott 
because Elliott was the dark side of him that he needed to be a complete person, just as 
Elliott needed Chris to remind him that there was beauty in life in more ways than one. 
As they made love again, this time with Chris lying on his back and lifting his legs to let 
Elliott take him, they may not comprehend fully what was going on but the empty spaces 
in their lives were slowly vanishing with each kiss, each touch, and each breath. 

Elliott had to return to Earth, it was inevitable, and he knew he was forcibly dragged back 
to reality when Chris' helicopter landed on the street near Elliott's house and he finally 
came home. The neighbors gathered to look at the celebrity among them and Elliott 
wasn't blind to the disbelief of these people when they imagine that Elliott knew 
someone like Chris Evans. He wanted to tell them that he had fucked and been fucked by 
Chris for, oh, a thousand times last night, and he even wanted to somehow show them 
how his body had been indelibly marked by Chris' touch. But perhaps that was the 
fantasy, and reality was when Chris smiled at these people, charmed them, and even 
laughed with them as he made them like him like he always do with people, all the while 
with his right arm firmly but definitely around Elliott's shoulder or waist. How romantic, 
really, that Chris, who knew how Elliott felt around these people, was making sure that 
they knew how Chris found Elliott good enough to be around. 

When Elliott overheard that bitch James Frank telling his friends that it was so retarded 
of Chris to even look at someone like Elliott, Chris' smile turned reptilian-cold as he told 
James that perhaps James should look into a mirror to see what ugliness looked like, 
Elliott thought that he might very well fall in love with Chris if he kept being a hero like 
this. Chris endeared himself to Elliott's parents throughout dinner and Elliott wondered 
why Chris was doing this. His birthday had long passed and Chris would be going back 
to his life while Elliott would have to keep living his. Chris making himself more of a 
part of his life would only make it harder for Elliott to pick up the pieces of his life once 
Chris left. "Why was Chris doing this?" he thought with dismay. But he knew that he 
would take Chris, how much or what Chris had to give him, tonight and always, to 
cherish. 

But when Chris told Elliott's parents that he would be taking Elliott next to a vacation is 
some exclusive and very expensive resort at this place called Gull Island, Elliott 
remembered that Chris had told him to cancel all his plans for the week. As Chris' cock 
started pouring its come into Elliott's ass soon after they took off in Chris' helicopter, 
Elliott stopped thinking and threw his heart, soul, and body into Chris as the man took 
Elliott places and showed the man what paradise was. And at the end of the week, when 
Chris proposed to Elliott, Elliott said yes. 

That was how Chris Evans started wearing a wedding ring in a chain around his neck. As 
Chris continued to model and accepted roles in a handful of movies that caught his fancy, 
he never took off this chain in all his photos or his shirtless scenes in his movie roles.  
When asked about the chain, he would proudly point out that it is a talisman of his 
feelings for a very special person in his life. Chris Evans was a simple guy with simple 
needs in life. He just wanted the world, and he found it in a special man named Elliott 
Yamin.   
