Stuck on a bus in a town unfamiliar to them. The Kris Allen band had one whole day to kill before their next show, but had no idea how to spend it. Cale did the usual, by tweeting to the people who live in that town and asked for advice for something fun to do. When he got multiple replies suggesting for them to go see a movie, Cale took the idea back to the rest of the band. There wasn't much bickering over which movie they were all going to go see. They had all decided on 'Prince of Persia'.

On the way to the nearest movie theatre, all the guys were chatting about how they thought the movie would be and if it was going to be as 'bad-ass' as the trailer made it seem. Andrew and Cale were looking forward to the ground-breaking action. Torres and Ryland were jizzing their pants about how incredible the special effects were going to be. Kris didn't really even want to go see the movie and kept trying to persuade the guys to let him catch up on some much needed sleep, but no dice.

Making sure to put on sunglasses and a baseball cap -for disguise-, Kris and the rest of the band entered the theatre. Kris got the seat on the end of the row with his band piled in to the four chairs to his right. Sighing and putting his feet up on the back of the chair in front of him, Kris scooted down, putting his cap over his face and tried to get some sleep in before the movie started. He wasn't in the best mood, not even wanting to come see this stupid movie with stupid effects and stupid action, he needed sleep dammit.

But just as he was wondering if he could get away with sleeping through the whole movie, Cale elbowed him, "Dude it's starting, wake up." Kris scooted up and began watching the opening scene lazily, totally not interested.

The movie was interesting enough to hold his attention, and it wasn't putting him to sleep like he had secretly hoped for so he could use it as an excuse. But something, and he wasn't sure of what it was, was distracting him. Jake Gyllenhaal, Kris thought, not a bad looking guy. He starting paying attention to Jake's character more than the others, just a little man crush he told himself, no big deal.

But when they showed Jake shirt less, the movie wasn't quite as lame for Kris anymore. He found himself not paying attention to the story line or even the words coming from the characters mouths, but he was unable to tear his eyes away from Jake's arms and rippling abs. He was overly wetting his lips as he watched the movie wide eyed. Those arms, my god...that hair I just want to tug on it...he's so sweaty...shit, look at his ass. Kris felt himself slowly rising to attention. He thanked god that he had his cap with him.

Placing his hat over his crotch, he snuck his hand underneath to rub himself softly through his jeans. He peeked over at his band to make sure their eyes were on the movie before pressing down firmer on his half hard cock. Keeping his eyes on the movie screen, he watched Jake, so sexy, so confident, so sweaty, so dominant, I wouldn't mind being manhandled by him, damn. He rubbed himself in small circles up and down his length trapped under denim fabric until he was fully hard, fantasizing about all the things he would let Jake do to him. He closed his eyes and imagined Jake licking up the side of his cock, he pressed harder on the raised spot in his jeans. Fuck, that feels good.

"Dude," Cale nudged Kris' shoulder pulling the singer from his trance and quickly pulling his hand out from under the cap. "That Gemma Arterdon chick is fine as hell huh?"

"Yup," Kris replied, assuming that he was referring to Jake's love interest in the movie, though of course, he hadn't given the woman a second glance. At first Kris thought that Cale had seen what he had been doing, but his band mates eyes hadn't left the screen for a second.

This is way too risky to do this here, Kris thought to himself. He knew that this his arousal would not go away until it was taken care of. But he didn't want to read an article in tomorrows newspaper reading 'American Idol winner, Kris Allen, pulls a Pee-Wee Herman'. So with this he got up with the excuse of having to use the restroom as he power walked out of the theatre and into the nearest mens bathroom and into the biggest stall at the end.

Once safely inside he leaned up against the stall door and began to quickly open his jeans and slide them down. Once they were discarded, Kris palmed at his engorged erection through his tight navy blue briefs, head back, eyes closed. He had the clear fantasy image in his head of Jake Gyllenhaal in full Prince of Persia attire, shirt less, right there with him in the stall and it was his hand squeezing and toying with Kris' cock and not his own. Kris' hand crept inside of his briefs and took ahold of his own length and began pumping. If he concentrated hard enough he could feel Jake's long and wild and sexy unkempt hair on his shoulder, rubbing on his chest and arms as he jacked him off. Kris whimpered when his own thumb swept across the head of his cock. He bucked his hips.

He could hear in his mind, Jake whispering into his ear in the hauntingly sexy british accent he adopted in the film, "Get naked for me and bend over." Kris did just that, pulling his green and white plaid shirt over his head and almost tearing off his briefs in haste, he bent over grabbing the handicapped railing with one hand. Closing his eyes he imagined Jake holding his thighs and spreading his legs out to a wide stance, he slid down to make a large 'V' formation with his legs. His ass hole twitched from being expose to the cold air.

Kris took his right hand and reached it up toward his face, flexing only his index and middle fingers up pressed together into one being, he slid them into his mouth to lubricate them. Moaning around his fingers, he imagined they were Jake's instead of his own. In his head he was imagining being forced by his dominant partner to hold the railing while being pleasantly made to suck on Jake's fingers. Kris fabricated a voice inside his mind speaking to him, sounding exactly like the voice of the current object of his desire. "Suck on them, baby, make them nice and wet for your ass. Nice and slick, there you go, baby" imaginary Jake harshly whispered into Kris' ear.

After he finished sucking, his pulled his saliva wet fingers out from between his twin water bed lips in a loud and obscene pop. Kris bent his head down. Closing his eyes tightly he reached behind himself and began massaging his opening making his own spit swim in circles around the twitching muscle. Kris bit his bottom lip and moaned. "There you go, baby, you like that? Yeah?"

"Yeah, Jake, I love it," he whispered under his breath. From what he remembered, he was the only person in the mens room at the moment. He wasn't a hundred percent sure, seeing as how he kinda rushed in, but he was still cautious not to make too much noise. He was the American Idol after all and such a story would become a huge scandal. Kris kinda liked it that way though, knowing he was doing something he wasn't supposed to. Sure, Kris Allen had an innocent face but nobody really knew what he was really capable of. He was a bad boy at heart.

"You my bad boy?"

"Yeah," he slipped his index finger into his ass hole, soon followed his middle finger. Kris let out a long drawn out moan as he slowly and carefully began to bounce on his own fingers sliding deeper into himself with every minute squat. "Take my fingers, Kris, you love it don't you, does it feel good?" Kris could feel fantasy-Jake's breath on the back of his neck whispering these words to him. "Yeah, so good, feels so good," he added a third finger to his hole stretching it wider, putting his head against the wall of the stall and whimpering as he thrust all three digits to the brim till he could feel his knuckles touch the outside.

Kris was on the edge, so close to loosing himself in his fantasy and coming to a climax, but he held back as best as he could. He wanted it to last a little longer. "Who knew that Kris Allen, mister American Idol, would love taking my fingers so much," Kris imagined Jake's chuckle in his ear. "I'm guess I'm not who you thought I was," he spoke back to the imaginary voice of his fantasy lover, he squeezed the hand rail harder with his left hand. Kris began to thrust himself roughly down onto his three fingers, now imagining that they were Jake's cock. "Take it," the british accent spoke to him, he imagined Jake's hands digging into his hips and thrusting as he bounced, "Take all of me. Kris! You fucking slut!"

It was too much for him. He released his left hand from the hand rail, continuing to hold himself up with his forehead pressed into the stall wall. With his left hand he grabbed at his engorged cock, hard for Jake. Continuing to ride his fingers (imaginary Jake's cock) he tugged at his own dick, pumping only a few times until he was moaning loudly, not giving a shit if he was alone in the mens room or not. His eyebrows drawn together and his eyes shut tight in ecstacy, his mouth opened in an orgasmic wail as he milked his cock. Cum shot out of his length and onto the wall of the stall in cloudy white streams. Slowly he pulled his own fingers out of his hole, twitching with it's loss.

He collapsed against the wall sweaty and panting as he came down from his climatic high. He moaned and whimpered, rolling his hips as he clinged to the wall. He allowed his breathing to slowly get back to normal.

"Jake fucking Gyllenhaal," he laughed out loud covering his face with his hands in embarrassment.

Kris' phone began to vibrate in his discarded pants pocket. He bent to get it out, feeling a dull pain behind him. It was a text from Andrew, 'You alright man?' it read. Kris giggled, I'm more than alright. 'Yeah I'll be right back, dude,' he replied. He stood up and leaned against the stall wall closing his eyes to relax and gather his thoughts before rejoining his friends in the theatre.

He smirked down at his iPhone.

In a few short seconds he had a picture of Jake, a movie still from Prince of Persia, pulled up on his phone. He was shirt less and just seeing it made Kris' slowly de-hardening cock twitch. Kris put his phone down to the correct level before lifting his own cock and dragging the head across the screen of his iPhone, smearing the remnants of his own cum across the screen, all over the Jake's abs and shirt less sweaty pecks. Kris moaned at the sight of his work when he was done, wishing that the real Jake was with him now so that he could do that very same thing with him, except on real flesh. "You look good man," Kris smirked down at the picture on his phone screen.

After staring down at the image of Jake covered in his cum for awhile, Kris lifted his phone to his face. Closing his eyes he licked his phone clean of his own cum in languid swipes of his tongue, moaning as he did so. He smacked his lips and swallowed his own release, imagining it to be Jake's.

Leaning his head back against the wall with his eyes closed, he smiled to himself. I gotta go to the movies more often.