Show-Offs, page 16
“Hey there,” someone said. I awoke from my nap to find the real Tyler and Cole staring down at me. They were completely dressed and looked more concerned than horny. “You best turn over,” Tyler said, “or you’ll be red as a beet. You’ve been lying there a good while now.”
I looked at my blistering skin and turned over immediately. I lifted my sunglasses onto my forehead and said, “Thanks.” They smiled and walked off.
Near suppertime, I was napping again in my room, this time my dreams not plagued by sex, when a knock at the door startled me awake. I wiped as much as the grog as I could from my eyes and opened it. Tyler stood in the doorway, shirtless, like the “after” picture of a muscle-building supplement advertisement. He grinned widely. He should be majoring in business, because he would have made a hell of salesman with that killer smile.
“Can I come in?” he asked.
I said nothing but stepped out of his way. He wore flower-colored jams that rested low on his hips and showed lovely cuts sloping from either side of his abdomen, pointing the way to his pubis; a hint of hair peeked out of the top of his pants. The drawstring to the drawers hung loosely. It was all I could do to keep from reaching over and jerking it to reveal Tyler in all his glory. His nipples were pink and thick and needed a good lashing of my tongue. I sat in one of the room’s upholstered chairs near the door and invited Tyler to do the same. But he remained standing, staring down at me with a gleam in his eye that flashed one message: sex. He had come, I just knew it, to make up for the disturbance of the night before. My throat went dry at the possibility; my dick stiffened. It took great restraint not to lick lasciviously.
“I wonder if you could do me and Cole a favor,” he asked finally, still smiling like a politician.
“Of course,” I said right away and nearly blacked out. Would Cole be part of our amends-making screw? That would be too much!
He inched closer. I could smell his testosterone. He put his hand on my right shoulder and stroked it slowly. Then he spoke again.
“Me and Cole have always had this fantasy…” He paused to lick his lips in a lascivious way.
“Yes,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. I just knew he was about to confess his and Cole’s attraction to the idea of doing it with an older man.
“…of having somebody watch us while we fuck.”
There was a slight deflation in my groin, not a total meltdown, but some softening.
“And we were wondering if you’d be the one to watch us. I mean, you seem to like us and all, and to get off on the way we look.” A pause hung in the air. Tyler popped it. “So, what do you say, man?” He squeezed my shoulder with one of his strong hands. I didn’t know if it was further invitation or a threat.
“Of course,” I whispered, knowing I would have to apologize to my cock later.
But it was, after all, the next best thing to having sex with them, and I had gotten off, again and again, merely listening to them gambol the night before. This little session would have a visual component to it. They would be naked! Before my very eyes! And who knew? Maybe the proceedings would get so wonderfully out of hand that they would invite me to join them and make the whole thing a genuine threesome.
Tyler slipped me his card key. He and Cole would be out for a while. I could go in and station myself in the mirrored closet that held the ironing board and extra blankets and pillows. So that’s what I did, leaving one of the closet doors cracked just enough for good visibility. But it was hot as hell in there, so I took off everything, and waited, naked as the day I was born.
Not long after, Tyler and Cole arrived, closing the motel room door softly behind them. Without a word, they fell into each other’s arms and began groping. They had obviously fired each other up pretty good before returning to their room. They kissed deeply, as though they hadn’t seen each other in days. They clawed each other’s clothes off until they were as nude as I was.
Cole sighed at the sight of his lover’s buff body and demanded: “Show me some guns, man!” Tyler obeyed, lifting up both his arms and flexing, his brawny biceps swelling. Cole licked his lips, then pounded the ’ceps with his fists before squeezing them with both his hands to test how hard they were. They passed. Then Cole bent and licked Tyler’s protuberant tits, flicking his tongue before digging deeply with his lips and teeth. Tyler sighed and closed his eyes. His long, fat cock rose to attention and stood between him and Cole with a slight quiver. Meanwhile, Cole’s hands slid down Tyler’s muscled torso till they met each other at the base of Tyler’s stiff dick. Cole dropped to his knees and took it into his mouth as Tyler moaned, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. I could no longer see his big cock, but reveled in the sight of Cole’s broad, bronzed back, his milk-white ass defined by his tan lines, and the contrast between his sun-tinged legs and his sandy-white soles. The boys were putting on a grand show for me, exciting the voyeur within I never knew existed. I had worked myself up to a full erection and was pounding with my right hand while my left toyed with my right nipple.
All of a sudden Tyler swooped Cole off the ground and lifted him into the air as though he weighed nothing. They looked into each other’s faces and laughed. Cole bound his long legs around Tyler’s hips and they joined together in a kiss. The sight of Cole’s cock mashed against Tyler’s chest only increased my ardor. It was as long as Tyler’s but not quite as thick.
Tyler dumped Cole onto the bed, lay down beside him and took Cole’s dick into his mouth, sucking like a professional all the way to the base without once gagging. At the same time, he worked first his left index finger into Cole’s asshole, screwing it around and around before inserting a second finger, and then a third, finger-fucking the hole with mesmerizing vigor. He dropped to his knees, pulled out his fingers and replaced them with his face, making a feast of the asshole, fucking it with his tongue until Cole whipped around on the bed in a frenzy before finally calling out, “Fuck your tongue, dude! I want your dick!” And from my vantage point, oh, how I did, too.
Tyler was happy to oblige. He stood, spreading Cole’s legs, and managed, with no hands, to press his dickhead against his lover’s asshole. With one rigorous shove he was in and pumping, resting Cole’s feet against his chest and fucking with a regular rhythm that grew faster and more intense. This was hammering, not mere screwing, and I couldn’t take my eyes off their bodies, pumping my cock in sync with Tyler’s fuck-strokes. Tyler pounded so hard he pushed Cole a couple of inches up the bed and had to yank him back down. “Fuck this!” Cole cried in a voice shivering with pleasure. “Let’s do it doggy-style!”
They rearranged themselves on the bed so that Cole presented his white butt for Tyler’s edification—and in the process provided me with an even better view. This time, Tyler spread Cole’s cheeks, slipping his dick in slowly before revving up with a force that quickly had Cole yelping like a dog. Tyler sped up. He threw back his head. His lips trembled, and so did I when I saw him pull his dick from Cole’s hole and, crying out his lover’s name, frost his back with spurt after spurt of semen. He shook as the orgasm passed through him, then gripped Cole’s shoulder and turned him over to take Cole’s dick into his hand and jack it. Cole’s face contorted with ecstasy as Tyler pumped him; so, I’m sure, did mine, as I pumped away in the closet, sweaty and shivering with erotic excitement. Cole beat me to the punch. He bucked his hips as he spewed cum everywhere: on the bed, the floor, on Tyler. They collapsed into each other’s arms.
Meanwhile my dickhead tingled. All signals were go from down below to launch. Up, up, up came the jism, and I was holding tight to my dick to keep it from flying right out of my hand. “Oh, you fuckers! You beautiful fuckers!” I yelled out as I painted the closet interior with my cum.
All of a sudden, just as I was cooling off, the mirrored door slid open. There stood Tyler, still naked.
“Aha!” he said in mock dramatic fashion. “We’ve got an intruder here! A voyeur! Cole, you know the punishment for Peeping Toms, don’t you?”
“I sure do,” answered Cole from the bed. “A good hot double fuck from a couple of young studs.”
And Tyler yanked me from the closet.
FOR REAL
Dominic Santi
No script?”
“Do whatever you want, Zak—whatever a couple of famous porn stars do together that everybody else only dreams about.”
“That’s not real specific.” I drank the last of my soda and sighed, loudly. Marco was a good director. I liked working with him. But his brainstorms weren’t always easy to understand when he was frustrated. At the moment, we were taking a break from filming a standard fuck flick. Marco was pacing a hole in the carpet, thwapping his clipboard against his thigh and complaining about his inability to cast The Right Couple for his next creative masterpiece. I was letting my dick rest and trying to figure out what the hell he was talking about.
In between his mutterings about “no fucking chemistry between them,” I figured out that he’d been taping wannabee actors who’d answered his cattle call for “long-term couples willing to ‘bare it all’ living out their sexual fantasies for the camera.” Apparently, the results had been less than stellar. Now, Marco was out of time. In fact, he was desperate enough that he was offering my partner and me a percentage, on top of our usual rates, if—big emphasis on the “if”—we could do a scene together hot enough for him to ditch the other footage he’d already shot.
The whole deal sounded too good to be true, which made me suspicious. Not that I didn’t trust Marco. But I’d worked with him enough to know he always had a hidden agenda. I rolled the empty can in my hands until he finally slowed down enough for me to get a word in. Then I said, “I don’t get it.”
He stopped pacing and quirked an eyebrow at me.
“There’s no script. We just have sex the way we do at home. If we do the scene hot enough, you pay us a bundle. What’s the catch?”
“No catch, pal!” Marco grinned as he walked up next to me and slapped me on the back. “I film you and Jeff getting it on—you know, real porn stars having real sex.” He winked at me. “It’s the ultimate voyeuristic fantasy! If you make the scenes really hot—bump up sales enough to justify the startup costs—I can use this as the pilot to open up a whole new line of candid videos. Your audience gets to jerk off watching, you get one helluva bonus, the studio gets rich. Everybody’s happy.”
Suddenly, Marco grabbed my shoulder and turned me around, narrowing his eyes as he looked at my butt. “What the fuck is this? Did that asshole give you a hickey just before a shoot? I’ll kill him!”
“It’s a bruise. The makeup must have worn off.” I pulled away, batting my eyes innocently. “I got it when Jeff and I fell out of bed, fucking. Does that make you feel better?”
“Ouch. Kinky, though.” He smirked, then his eyebrows narrowed. “You guys do that often?”
I could almost hear the wheels turning, and I did not want to go down that road. I tossed my empty can in the trash.
“Every day,” I smiled. I didn’t have the heart to tell Marco that after a long day of fucking for money, my boyfriend and I liked to relax at home. We read, worked out together, watched movies with plots—slept! Our private lives did not revolve around a social whirl of orgies and anonymous tricks in the bars of West Hollywood.
Not that Marco would have believed that. He snickered, turning away as he waved the gaffer over to him. “We’ll talk more when we’re done today.” He paused. “But give me a teaser. What would John Doe on the street need to do to have a sex life as hot as yours?”
“Marry Jeff Evans,” I grumbled. I grabbed my dick and started stroking, ignoring Marco’s laughter as I walked out of the room to get ready for my next scene.
Jeff was due home from his latest European shoot in two weeks. I knew I’d be horny as hell for him by then. But I wasn’t looking forward to Marco’s little project. Even though I was half of an “internationally famous” porn-star couple, I relished my private time alone with my lover. To my way of thinking, we didn’t get enough of it.
Other than the one-take “you-suck-me-I’ll-suck-you” jail scene where we’d met, Jeff and I hadn’t done any movies together. I worked mostly in the United States. Popularizing cocksucking with condoms was my claim to fame. Jeff worked more overseas. Having a thick, uncut, country cock—and being able to speak Czech as fluently as his never-adjusted-to-Omaha mother—gave him an instant in with American companies who were capitalizing on the burgeoning East European markets. Jeff looked Slavic. He could talk to his costars as well as to the director. And he had one fucking gorgeous body.
Okay, so I’m biased. After five years together, Jeff’s smile can still make my dick drool. Anybody watching a video of his can see how much he’s enjoying himself. This is no straight man pretending to be gay. Jeff loves fucking ass. His beautifully tapered nine inches are thick as a beer can, and he’s always hard. So, he’s always cast as a top—even though he’s so big it’s sometimes difficult to find bottoms for his fuck scenes.
We get asked, often, what keeps us together. “You’re both tops. Isn’t it, you know, kind of pointless?”
Jeff’s stock answer is, “I married him for his mind.” At which time he grabs my crotch and winks at our interrogators. His squeezing always has the expected result. It’s a good thing I like being hard in public.
What he doesn’t say is that when it’s just the two of us, we bottom to each other. I’m as long as he is, though not as wide, and I’m cut. Directors love the way my wide-rimmed mushroom head looks popping in and out of lips and assholes. The definition stays clear even when I’m inside the rubber. The PR folks say that complements what they call my “chiseled Greek looks.” I have to admit, my dick does look good—even more so on a wide-screen TV.
Jeff loves working that rim with his tongue. He gives a mean blow job. I shoot geysers when he’s doing me. Okay, so I’m also in love with the guy. He’s well read, intelligent, prone to pulling practical jokes, and I’ve gotten used to sleeping with his prong poking me in the kidney all night. Besides, I love playing with his dick. His cum tastes great and he’s got enough foreskin for the both of us.
That’s what was going to be hard to explain to Marco—the skin part. At work, everyone we suck or fuck is always sheathed in latex. Jeff and I have both eroticized condoms to the point that just hearing a wrapper being torn open makes us stiff. But at home, we’re body-fluid monogamous. A couple of years ago, after another round of negative tests, we’d decided that as long as we used condoms with everyone else, every time—and as long as there were no accidents—we’d go skin to skin with each other.
I didn’t know how that was going to fit into Marco’s grand marketing plans. He was adamant that he wanted to film us on Jeff’s first night back from Europe—before we’d had a chance to fuck. After several long and very expensive phone calls, Jeff and I decided ol’ Marco was going to get exactly what he’d asked for. We’d burn that bed up with the hottest action our illustrious director had ever seen. And for our troubles, Jeff and I were going to walk away with the money we needed for the balloon payment on our condo.
On the day of the shoot, Marco was in his usual rush. “What kind of props do you need?”
Jeff snickered and rubbed his crotch, the sizeable erection tenting the front of his robe. Despite his jet lag, after three weeks apart, we’d have been happy humping on the carpet.
“A couple towels, three or four pillows, some coconut massage oil.” I shrugged.
“I want a second sheet and a blanket at the bottom of the bed.”
I raised my eyebrows at my hot and horny partner’s requests, but Jeff just smiled and kept rubbing his crotch. I reached over to help him.
“You got it.” The ever-efficient Marco snapped his fingers and somebody was on it. His crews are always good. “Condoms, lube, the standard kit will be on the nightstand.”
Jeff and I sat on the edge of the bed, ignoring him and the flurry of activity around us as we turned our concentration to necking and stroking the erections poking out through each other’s robes.
“Zak, Jeff…now, please!”
We came up for air, gasping as we made a pretense of composing ourselves. I kept my hand in Jeff’s lap, though. I couldn’t quite bring myself to let go of him. I’d missed him.
Marco grabbed a fresh cup of coffee from his latest twink assistant and kept right on talking, like he actually thought we were listening to him. “Do whatever you want—fuck, suck, jack off. Just make it hot. And stay on the bed so we don’t have to screw around with the lights.”
He looked away, wincing as he sipped the steaming liquid. “We’ll do the voice-overs later, as well as specific questions about your relationship and so forth, based on the action. Don’t worry about that now.” He stopped and looked at us over the edge of his cup. “Unless you have questions, we’ll start in fifteen minutes.”
When Jeff and I both shook our heads, Marco turned his attention back to the crew, and Jeff and I went off to finish getting ready. Marco assigned us each a minder, though, to ensure we didn’t sneak off for a quickie somewhere. He wasn’t going to let anybody disrupt his grand plans.
“Leave them alone! I will personally shoot anyone who interferes with what I expect to be record cum shots!”
Jeff and I knelt on the bed, facing each other, and handed our robes to the disappointed fluffers.
“Places everyone. Make me proud.” Marco launched into his standard routine, and we were rolling. Jeff winked at me, giving my thigh a quick prod with that monster cock of his. I wiggled my eyebrows back at him. Then we took each other’s hands and I let the techies’ discussions fade away into the background. Just knowing they were there was all the encouragement my exhibitionist streak needed.
