The Porn Shoot

"Well, I'm definitely down to hit a bar up with you," Logan says. "As long as you don't mention that we were hanging out off set to anyone when you're filming again."

The secrecy is weirding me out, and maybe it's a terrible idea anyway. I look at Logan's face. "Should we not do it then?"

"No, I think that would be fun. Where do you want to go? Campus Sports maybe?" he jokes, immediately bursting into laughter. "What about the Cardinal?"

The place is a tiny indie bar with half a dozen tables, a perfect location to have a discreet conversation, and it's undoubtedly dead at this time on a Saturday. "Yeah, that sounds good," I agree.

Logan smiles, seeming genuinely excited to spend time with me away from the mansion. "Ok, I'll meet you over there!"

We climb into our cars and drive back down the long driveway of Bob's estate, beginning the 20 minute trip to downtown. Questions are still roiling through my brain, my dick stiffening every time I remember fucking Logan. The images are obnoxiously vivid, my shaft filling out even more in my gym shorts thinking about the way he'd moaned when I plowed him with everything I had. Fucking Viagra! How long is this shit supposed to last? I try to drown everything out with music, turning my stereo's volume up almost as high as it can go. I don't even know what I'm expecting from having a tipsy conversation with Logan. I'm dwelling on it as we slowly return to civilization, crossing back into the familiar grid of streets near the college campus. I want him to tell me that plenty of his other straight scene partners found themselves getting into the shoot and enjoying it, enjoying his touch, his mouth, his ass. I want him to reassure me that it doesn't mean anything. We were just acting, just filming a scene to get paid.

The Cardinal is deserted when we walk inside, understandably since it's 4:00 PM. After Logan and I both get carded, I walk up to the bar and order a double whiskey and Coke, Logan asking for some fruity shit, waving to one of the guys behind the bar. I throw my card down and pay for both drinks, a habit I'm apparently incapable of giving up, the two of us settling at a table. I'm the one who'd asked to hang out, my scene partner looking up at me like he's expecting me to say something as we both quietly sip our cocktails. I don't know what to fucking say. I have no idea how to start this conversation. Why the fuck did I do this? Why am I always putting myself in these horrible situations?

"How's your drink?" I finally ask, trying to fill the silence.

"Good," Logan answers, taking another long sip. "How's yours?"

I gulp more of mine down. "Hard to fuck up a whiskey and Coke," I mutter.

He laughs nervously, looking down and sipping again before he gazes back into my eyes. "What's your real name?"

"Jamie. What's yours?"

"Kyle. But don't call me that on set if they pair us together for another scene," he cautions. "Bob will be pissed."

He's bringing up the apparently absolute prohibition against us hanging out together outside of the mansion for the second time in less than an hour. "What's wrong with us hanging out and talking?"

"It causes drama," Kyle explains. "Models fuck, models have tiffs when it doesn't go well, they get pissy and start badmouthing each other and then they don't want to work together. It gets in the way of Bob's schedule, and all he cares about is making money."

"I guess that's fair," I say, slurping more whiskey down before I turn awkwardly silent again. What the fuck is wrong with me? I know exactly what I want to say, and now we're alone together. Why can't I fucking say it?

Kyle looks more comfortable with his drink mostly finished. "You feeling a little weird about filming today?"

He's known that since I turned strange in the shower, when I was certain he'd picked up on the confusion scrawled across my face. "Yeah," I admit, the booze finally starting to hit. "More than a little."

Kyle stares down at the table like he's not sure how to respond before he looks back up at me. "What's going through your head right now?"

Why the fuck did I think this was a good idea? I knock back the rest of my drink before I feel like I can answer him. "A lot of stuff," I say puzzlingly. He's being way too patient kindly looking up at my face after a response like that. He must have been in this position with a scene partner before.

"Should we get another drink?" Kyle asks.

Knowing that he's worked with other straight guys, I feel like he understands exactly what I'm experiencing right now. Booze is the best way to the truth. "Yeah, that's a good idea," I answer.

"Just relax, I know one of the guys working here. He'll hook us up," Kyle says, standing up and walking over to the bar for both of us.

I feel like a fucking idiot. I'm outgoing, carefree, and buoyant for a living, but I'm making this feel like an awkward first date from hell. If I met up with a chick and she acted this way with me, I probably would have already been running out the door. This guy is way too patient. Maybe I should just leave. This is fucking pointless.

Kyle comes back to the table with two fresh drinks in hand, sliding one over to me. While I'm eagerly slurping my second whiskey and Coke down, not offering another awkward word, one of the bartenders walks up and sets down a wooden tray with six full shots of clear liquor.

"Thanks, Jack!" Kyle calls, smiling at the guy he'd waved to when we'd ordered our first round.

"What did you get?" I wonder, staring at the shots lined up in front of me. They're alluring and I'm imagining myself instantly downing all of them. Maybe that would make me a little fucking braver.

He smiles at me. "Truth serum," he answers, starting to laugh. "It's tequila."

I know I would have charged $30 for a flight like that at Sports. "Dude, I owe you!"

Kyle shakes his head. "Don't worry about it, he didn't actually make me pay for the shots. And I got paid more for the scene anyway."

"You got paid more?"

He grins. "You always make more being the bottom. You want a shot?"

Well, fuck that. I liked fucking him but I definitely don't want to have a dick shoved up my ass, even if it pays more than $750 a scene. Logan makes me take two shots of tequila for every one he downs. By the time we finish the flight, I'm definitely tipsy, staring across the table at his pretty face. With the alcohol swimming in my brain, I admit to myself that I'm attracted to him. I've never felt that way about another guy in my whole life, but I'm attracted to him. He's small and hairless and his face is smooth and I don't even care that he has a dick, thinking about how tight his ass was wrapped around my shaft, remembering the way he'd easily swallowed me to the balls. The little gay guy is cute and I'd liked fucking him. I loved fucking him. I'd ignored Todd's directions earlier because I was intent on shooting my seed inside of him. I don't know why I felt like I needed to do that, but I needed it. I wanted my load buried up inside his tight ass.

And right now, I want to lap my tongue against his perfectly smooth pink hole again, to shove my hard cock into him without Todd ordering me around and interrupting us. And god it's fucking hard. Thinking about fucking Kyle again, my rigid shaft is eagerly pulsing in my shorts. How long does Viagra fucking last, seriously? I want to hear him genuinely moaning again. I want to know how much the pretty boyish guy loves having my huge dick reaming in and out of his ass. I want to actually fuck him, without a crew and a camera looking on.

"How are you feeling?" Kyle asks, interrupting my fantasy.

"Good," I answer. I'm buzzed, fuzzy, and he suddenly looks more attractive than he has all day. How can a guy be this cute? What the fuck is wrong with me? I busted my seven day load, and it's been hours since I took that blue pill. Why won't this fucking erection go away? God he's cute, and I'm fucking crazy. Kyle smiles at me like he knows exactly what I'm thinking. He fucking knows and I can't hide anything.

"You going to tell me what you're thinking about now?"

I sigh loudly, shaking my head, looking down at my drink. "Have you been with other straight guys who enjoyed filming the scene?" I ask. I can hear myself fucking slurring.

"Yeah," Kyle answers nonchalantly. "It happens sometimes. Are you freaking out because we actually connected?"

We connected? Shit. I knew it and I knew he knew it, but actually hearing him say it makes me fucking anxious. My face lifts up and my eyes are drilling into his. "Yeah, man. I'm fucking freaking out. I've never experienced that with another dude before." I'm still slurring and I don't even care. I want to reach across the table and grab him, shoving my tongue down his throat again. He's fucking pretty and small and hairless and his blue eyes are beautiful and I love the golden hue of his tanned face and what the fuck is wrong with me? Oh shit! Did I just acknowledge that we connected?

"You know you can be into girls and guys at the same time," Kyle says sincerely.

He's calm and at ease like this situation is totally normal while I'm silently panicking, struggling not to permit the emotions to creep across my face where he can see them, but he can probably see them anyway. He fucking bores into me and sees everything. I'm not even drunk enough to pretend I'm too drunk as an excuse to wander away, not that I really want to, because I can't stop thinking about how fucking attractive he is.

"Jamie?"

God damn it. I'm so lost and confused I'm being awkward again. "You really think that's true?" I wonder, nervously rubbing my hands against my legs, feeling my solid dick snaked down one of the sides of my shorts, as I lower my head into the straw planted in my whiskey and Coke, taking a huge swig. He's watching me drink and I know he knows what I'm thinking. He knows everything that I'm thinking.

"Some of the other straight models are married or have girlfriends, but they still enjoy doing the scenes," Kyle explains. "Some people just like being sexual. I mean, I'm totally gay, but I've hung out with other guys who got into it and I definitely don't think they are."

No, no, no, I'm not suddenly down to fuck around with other guys because I fucked him. I'm into him. He's the only one who's ever inflicted this confusing torture upon me. "I don't just like being sexual with other dudes," I drunkenly declare to his face. "I like being sexual with you. And you're the only guy I've ever felt like this about in my whole life, seriously."

Kyle looks sympathetic as he sips more of his fruity drink. "Well, you know I'm into you too. You're a really hot guy. And I've enjoyed getting to know you all day. I like you a lot, Jamie. And honestly..." He looks hesitant as he slurps more booze down. "If the possibility that you might not be 100% straight is bothering you already, maybe you shouldn't film any more scenes. It's probably going to make you feel more confused."

I've totally forgotten about the money at stake sitting here across the table from him, and right now I don't even care. "So you think I'm just into dudes now?" I ask angrily. Of course I'm straight. I'm only attracted to him because I've busted a single time in the last week and they doped me up to film. It doesn't mean anything.

"Maybe you just discovered something you never realized you were open to before," he suggests. "I mean...you're saying you would want to fool around with me again if you had the chance, right?"

Feeling like he's inviting me, my dick still hard looking at him, I stop caring about what it means. I want him. I have no idea how long these feelings are going to last, but I know I want Kyle again right now. "Dude, can we walk back to my place?"

He seems hesitant gazing back at me. "I'm sorry I made you do most of the shots," he apologizes, like he thinks I'm too drunk to be inviting him back to my apartment.

"No, man," I object. "You were right, truth serum. And now I'm telling you the truth. I want you to walk back to my place with me. Right now." Kyle looks fucking uncomfortable and I feel like an idiot knowing that I had to do this to admit how much I want him and I hate seeing that expression on his face. I slurp the last of my whiskey and Coke down, bolting up. "Sorry," I mutter, bounding away from the table, struggling past the people who are suddenly walking through the cramped entrance. I feel a hand on my back as I'm trying to navigate through the crowd.

"Jamie, come back!" Kyle calls from behind me.

Nope. I'm fucking done with this being vulnerable shit. Fuck Kyle, or Logan, or whoever he is. And fuck Bob Howard. Fuck Rick and Todd and whoever that third dude at the house was. And fuck my mom too for putting me in this situation. And fuck my dad, because he's the only reason she ever said no to bailing me out again in the first place. And fuck everyone, fuck the whole fucking world and everyone in it for me making me live through that shit. And fuck the bank for letting me overdraft and then charging me a fee, and fuck the other bartenders who gleefully took my money while I spent the month on my magic spending spree. And fuck every girl who I ever bought a drink for, and especially the sluts who ate up bottle service downing shots as they hungrily looked on while I handed my debit card over like it was nothing. Fuck them all. Go to fucking hell.

Fuck! I'm too buzzed to squat, so I hit the sidewalk intent on drunkenly stumbling into the gym and curling more weight than I ever have in my life. I'm going to do four fucking sets and then I'll do four fucking sets of hammers with even heavier weights. And then I'll do some preacher curls and make my arms really fucking burn. God fucking damn this stoplight. I can't even fucking get closer to the gym. I feel a hand against my shoulder, grunting as I tear it away and turn around.

Kyle's standing there beneath me, looking up at me with his smooth, pretty fucking face. He wraps his arms around my back and presses into my lips and I want to shove his gay fucking ass away but I kiss him back because it's all I've been able to fucking think about since the camera crew left us alone in the shower, when I wasn't man enough to do it even knowing how much I still wanted him. What the fuck is wrong with me? I'm the one plunging my tongue into his mouth and we're greedily making out here in the intersection, and I suddenly stop caring if anyone sees us because at least I'm kissing him. I hear people walking all around us, but my eyes are closed and I feel myself melting into him, surrendering to the roughness, the forcefulness, the masculinity of his kiss. My big dick is filling out in my shorts again and I don't even fucking care who can see it.

God damn, Kyle. Seriously, what is this? How long is the fucking Viagra going to last? His tongue feels so good against mine, better than it had with the cameras rolling, better than when he'd innocently offered to practice and we first made out. People are still loudly walking past us to cross the street and I don't even give a shit.

"Is your place close?" he finally asks when he breathlessly pulls away from my mouth.

Fuck the gym. I have Kyle now. "Yeah, a couple blocks up," I answer. We walk up the street together and every time we have to stop I look at him like I want to devour him. I do. What the fuck is wrong with me? I'm still pent-up and drugged and I'm a little drunk but he's cute. He's really cute. Why do I keep thinking he's cute? Why is he so pretty and why is he chasing after me? I'm a total fuck-up who just filmed a gay porn scene because I failed at getting my life together, but the beautiful gay guy is following me home.

Beautiful gay guy? Shit. Now I think he's beautiful? Well, he is. He's gorgeous. I'd never thought about another man like that before, but I know he's pretty. Why the fuck am I so attracted to him? Fuck it. When we're stalled at the next light I grab Kyle's hand, his fingers locking around mine, my dick filling out even more. I stare out at the street, not able to look down at him, but I love feeling his flesh against mine. I don't even care who might see us: girls I'd fucked, coworkers, people who went to Sports, whatever. We march across the street together and I finally unleash him as we walk into the lobby of my building, pressing my fob up to the sensor on the door.

Standing together in the elevator, riding up to the fourth floor, I see the anxiety in Kyle's eyes. "Hey, uh," I mutter as the door swings open, "I'm sorry if I made this awkward as fuck."

He smiles warmly, like he genuinely cares. "Are you sure you want to have me over? I can go back down."

I adamantly shake my head looking at his pretty face. "No, I definitely want to have you over." We walk out of the elevator to my door and I unlock it, feeling like I'm letting Kyle into my real life as we both cross into my apartment.

He looks around and chuckles as he's taking his shoes off at the door. "Well, I definitely believe you're straight now."

I don't even get it as I'm drunkenly pulling my shoes from my feet. "What?"

Kyle laughs again. "You have, like, no decorations at all except for those empty bottles on top of your cabinets. Your walls are totally bare."

I shrug. "So what?"

He wraps his hands around me there in the entryway, looking up at me like he wants to kiss me again, and of course I do it. Our lips join together and I'm making out with Kyle more eagerly than I had in the crosswalk, loving his kiss, the confidence, the firmness, the unapologetic masculinity that he's pouring into it. We're two horny guys hungry for physical affection, and lapping my tongue vigorously against his I know he wants this as much as I do, that he needs this as much as I do. God damn, how have I lived 22 years without being kissed like this! Fucking Viagra!

Kyle looks up at me with intense longing in his blue eyes when I pull back from his lips, feeling our saliva all over my mouth.

"I'm cool with just hanging out if this is too much right now," he offers meekly, like he's worried that I broke away.

Hang out? I didn't bring him here to just shoot the shit. "Can we hang out naked?" I ask, smirking at him.

He laughs, pulling his shirt off without saying anything, his smooth little body calling out to me as I feel his little pecs up the way I'd grab a chick's tits. There's barely anything there but I still love touching him. Kyle drops his shorts as I'm pinching his nipples, his briefs falling down with them as he softly moans.

"You're wearing a lot for someone who wants to hang out naked," he whispers, my hands still on his chest.

God damn, seriously, what the fuck is wrong with me? I'm staring down at his naked body, seeing that his little dick is rock hard, and I absolutely fucking love the way he talks to me. There's no drama, no dance, no courtship. We've decided we're attracted to each other and the little gay guy goes for it, daring me to go further. This is fucking hot. It's exciting. I strip my shirt off, throwing it down on the floor. "Yeah, you're right," I murmur, totally playing along.

Kyle lifts his soft hands up from my faint abs to my round pecs, touching every inch of my skin, moving to my shoulders and gripping his fingers down my arms, past my biceps, sliding his hands down my forearms as he's gazing eagerly into my eyes. "You have such a fucking hot body," he says hungrily. "I've always wanted to look like you."

I grin, pulling my gym shorts down and releasing my dick as his hands drop to my huge ass, cupping it relentlessly. "Maybe we should start working out together," I suggest. "I could use a good gym buddy." I don't even fucking mean it, hating when people bother me in the gym, but the words escape my mouth anyway. His glance is so fucking lustful and I can't even believe I've never explored this until right now. Kyle is unleashing something within me that I never knew existed until today, until the shoot, until this moment, and now I'm standing by my front door naked with him wanting more. I don't even care if I will regret any of this when I'm "normal" again. I need him right now.

"I would love to work out with you," he says seriously, his hands still gripping my huge ass as he stares up at me.

"Come on, man, let's go relax," I urge, knowing exactly where it will lead. We step out of the clothing lodged between our ankles and I guide Kyle over to my couch, both of us settling next to each other, our arms and thighs pressing together. I plant my socked feet on the coffee table, his bare tops joining mine. I love feeling his warm body against mine, having him here in my living room completely naked with me. I look at Kyle and he smiles a little sheepishly.

"What was your favorite thing we did during the shoot?" he wonders, almost whispering the question. He begins slowly rubbing his hand affectionately across my hairy thigh.

The little gay guy is so into me, so fucking lucky, and I still can't think straight. "Definitely the fucking," I admit, smirking at him like I'm flirting.

Kyle laughs, his hand wandering closer and closer to my solid eight inches as he caresses me. "Yeah, that was awesome. You have a huge dick and you really know how to use it. I've been in scenes with guys who just stick it in and then they barely move when they're inside me. I had to dial up the fake moaning like crazy pretending I felt something."

"You weren't fake moaning with me?" He's so fucking pretty. His blond hair is especially dazzling in the sunlight pouring in from my window, his bright blue eyes glistening, his smooth, tanned face glowing. I know he's filmed a dozen porn scenes for Bob, but he exudes innocence, a boyish charm.

"Only a little," Kyle says. "Todd's idea of 'natural' is a little corny and over the top when you're the bottom, but I know what he expects by now."

"Yeah, I noticed. I tried to shut you up by fucking you even harder."

Kyle's fingers reach my dick and he squeezes it in his hand, a big smile on his face. "I loved when you fucked me like that! That felt so good." He's quiet, his fingers stroking my shaft. "What was your least favorite part of doing the scene?"

"Probably sucking your dick," I answer, the words feeling crass as soon as I hear myself saying them. "I mean, not that it was horrible, I just don't think that's ever going to be my thing."

Kyle chuckles like he isn't offended at all. "I'd rather get my ass eaten than have my dick sucked, honestly. It's not my thing either."

"That was way hotter than I thought it was going to be." Why are these words fucking flooding out of my mouth? I'm imagining his perfectly smooth pink hole, the way he'd moaned when I eagerly licked his ass.

He seems excited. "I wasn't playing it up for the camera when I said you were a natural. That felt so good. Can I ask you a question?"

"Yeah."

"Do you have a foot fetish?" Kyle touches the sole of one of his tanned, perfectly groomed feet to my sock, curling his toes against the fabric.

"No, I wouldn't say that." I've always thought feet are kind of gross. I would fucking hate being asked to lick some guy's feet for a scene.

He seems surprised. "You looked like you were actually enjoying it when I was rubbing and licking yours."

"I mean, yeah, it felt really good," I admit. "Like, really good. No one's ever touched me like that before but I definitely enjoyed it."

Kyle appears reluctant as we're both sitting there pressed together on the couch, his foot still resting against my sock. "Well, you have really nice feet. Can I take your socks off?"

Now I'm assuming he definitely has a foot fetish. No wonder he was making me feel so good on the set, and of course I want to enjoy all those sensations again, knowing that he's probably an expert at that too "Yeah, man," I invite. "Go for it."

Kyle launches himself off the couch, kneeling down on the other side of my coffee table and pushing his face into my socks. He seems overwhelmed. "You smell so fucking good," he murmurs lustfully, slowly pulling the socks off my feet, wrapping his hands around the tops and guiding his face into my soles.

They're just as sensitive as they were the first time he touched them, my skin electrified feeling his fingers on me again. I'm mesmerized that just having Kyle's hands on my feet can feel this good. I'm rock hard, my hand finding my dick and starting to stroke it. "Yeah, man," I groan, wanting to feel more. "Lick them again."

He goes to work like it's a pleasure, blissful sensations shooting up my legs as he laps his tongue across my soles and he starts to suck on my toes. Kyle looks fucking manic working my feet and I'm so turned on. I don't understand why he's into this at all, but if my fucking feet do this to him, how does he feel about the rest of me? "Come up here," I insist, not wanting to wait a moment longer for something more, my cock pleading for his mouth. "Suck my dick again."

Kyle stands up and gets between my legs, spreading them wider, kissing me briefly before he pushes my head up and licks down my neck, down my defined chest, down the faint abs on my stomach. He kneels down in front of me, lifting my legs into the air, my toes resting against the edge of the table, dragging his tongue through the trimmed pubes beside my dick, past my balls, finally lodging himself in the spot between my sack and my hole. He gently laps against my skin there, the sensations absolutely incredible, as he traces his tongue up, finally pressing it against my balls. They're still loose and full as fuck, Kyle gently taking each one into his mouth, slightly sucking against my sack, his tongue eagerly washing over them like he's worshiping my nuts.

I fucking love it. No chick ever fucking does that. "Yeah," I murmur, feeling Kyle's tongue on my shaft, slowly tracing up to my head, fixating there to lap at the precum spewing out of the slit. He moans as he wanders back down, his tongue energetically driving up and down my eight inches. "Suck it," I demand, desperate to feel his warm, wet mouth planted down around my cock again. I run my hands through his beautiful blond hair.

"Yeah?" Kyle whispers when he lifts his tongue away, his hand wrapping around my dick. "You're so fucking huge."

He takes my length into his mouth, working it even more expertly than he had earlier, the camera and crew removed, blowing me like he has something to prove. And he's fucking proving it. God damn. Kyle quickly lifts his hand away, jamming my dick all the way down his throat, gagging on it as he lifts up with spit streaming out of his mouth. He looks up at me like this is the hottest thing in the world, instantly driving his throat down on me again, grunting as he buries his lips down to my balls.

A desire I'd never imagined until we shot the scene is suddenly bubbling up. "Dude, can you...can you lick my ass again?" I can't believe I'm asking but I'd enjoyed it so much.

Kyle's smooth, pretty face lifts off my rock hard cock, his hand reaching up to stroke my wet length as he grins, his bright blue eyes beaming. "You liked getting your ass eaten?"

"Yeah, man. Please do it again." I'm fucking begging for it. I can't believe I'm begging for it.

His tongue presses down my shaft, lapping against both my balls, gliding down to that sensitive spot between them and my hole. Kyle presses his lips against it, gently sucking the skin there before he licks down to my crack, instantly diving his tongue into my ass. He spreads my cheeks wider with his hands, vigorously licking at my exposed hole.

I'm moaning and jerking off feverishly feeling the nerve endings light up for the second time in my life. "Fuck yeah," I groan contentedly. Shit, maybe I'd rather do this than get blown too.

Kyle is eagerly probing my butt, moving his tongue up and down, side to side, attacking my hole from every angle. He darts it all the way up to that sensitive spot beneath my balls, lapping intently there before his tongue sinks back down to my slit, viciously digging against my ass like he wants to shove himself inside. He moves his wet tongue across one of my cheeks, his teeth lightly sinking into my skin.

I yelp, my hand freezing on my dick. For a second I'm so surprised I want to slap him, to grab him by the hair while I tell him to never do that again, but I decide I actually like the feeling. I love how fucking aggressive he is. This is fucking hot.

He lifts his head away from my ass, the whole bottom half of his smooth, pretty face wet. "Too much?" he whispers.

"No, that was good." My dick is throbbing so hard and I need more than his mouth. "Come up here and sit on it again," I growl.

Kyle grins, pressing his face back into my ass, licking his tongue across my hole one last time and gliding to my other cheek, softly biting me there too before his head pulls away . "You want me to ride that big dick some more?" he hisses, his hungry eyes peering straight into mine.

"Fuck yeah, dude," I grunt, splaying my arms out on top of the couch cushions. "I need to feel that tight fucking ass!"

He stands up, straddling me and lowering his knees down beside my body on the couch, the two of us looking at each other as Kyle smiles mischievously and spits into his hand. "And I need that dick inside me," he breathes, reaching behind himself and grabbing my rigid shaft, lubing it up. He slaps his ass with my length a few times, rubbing the spit-slicked head against his hole.

"Sit on it, man," I beg. I can't wait anymore. I need to be inside him right now.

Kyle grasps my length at the base and starts sinking his butt down. "Oh shit!" he cries, his mouth gaping open as he pulls his hand away. "Fuck!" In an instant he buries my eight inches like it's nothing, sliding down until his cheeks are resting against my sack. "You're so fucking huge!" he whimpers.

I smirk at him, seeing that his little dick is still rock hard. "I already know you can fucking handle it," I murmur.

"Fuck yeah I can!" Kyle pants, starting to gyrate his butt into my cock and heartily moaning.

I'm in heaven with the little gay guy sitting in my lap, my dick enveloped in his tight hole, his pretty face right there in front of mine. I wrap my hands around his head, pulling him into my lips for another kiss, our tongues passionately joining together, fighting to be deeper in each other's mouths. I force him away with my hands after he's fucked himself for a minute, drawing his face back and looking into his blue eyes. "I've wanted this since they left us alone in that fucking shower," I confess.

"I know," he whispers, still gently lifting his ass up and down on my dick, his whole expression consumed with lust. "What do you think I was thinking about the whole time we were at the bar?" His face is intent as he shifts his legs up, planting his feet on the couch cushions and starting to ride my cock harder, my hands moving down to his hips, holding him there for a minute before I move them to his smooth ass. "You feel so good," he moans. "I love taking your dick!"

"Yeah, work that big fucking dick, dude!" I grunt back, Kyle reaching his arms around me, lowering his face down to suck on my neck, gently pecking me on the lips as he's bouncing up and down on my shaft, his ass feeling more and more incredible. The little gay guy is moaning more blissfully than he ever had during the scene, all the canned porn dialogue gone.

The minutes tick by, the fiery heat between us constantly escalating, the moaning and cursing absolutely obscene, and I'm totally lost in ecstasy. We're both starting to sweat, our hands literally all over each other, Kyle alternating between being close enough to make out with me and gripping my shoulders or my thighs so that he can really pummel himself with my cock. He's riding me like no chick ever has, totally absorbed with driving my eight inches even deeper into his body.

This is so fucking passionate, way too fucking passionate, and it's all so wrong, but I can't stop myself. Kyle feels too good. I love having our arms wrapped around each other, his hairless little body against mine, our sweaty faces pressing together as we hungrily kiss, Kyle forcefully slamming his ass into my dick the whole time.

He pulls back from my face, sinking his butt down to my balls, wiping the sweat off my forehead with his hand and smiling. "My legs are seriously about to give out," he pants.

"Want to go fuck in my bed?" I invite breathlessly.

Kyle gently kisses my lips, his hands gripping on to my shoulders. "Maybe we can try another position we didn't get to do during the shoot?"

"Fuck yeah," I say, my dick slipping out of his ass as he climbs off of me, his legs wobbling as he struggles to stand up. I already fucking miss being inside him. I need to keep plowing that amazing ass. I eagerly lift myself off the couch, the place where we'd been fucking now visibly wet with sweat, grabbing Kyle's hand and leading him toward my bedroom. Why the fuck am I holding his hand again? Whatever.

"Your dick is so fucking perfect," he murmurs as we're walking down the hallway.

"Your ass is fucking perfect!" I say back, feeling myself grinning as we reach the door frame. I grab Kyle right there, turning his body toward mine and wrapping my hands around his beautiful butt, squeezing his hairless cheeks. I find his lips and kiss him, our dicks jutting together like they had in the shower earlier, both of us still rock hard, his little cock batting against mine as we grind our bodies together and I hungrily press my tongue into his mouth again. I steadily guide him toward the bed as we're making out, finally throwing him down on the mattress. "How do you want it now?" I growl.

Kyle looks so fucking eager as he lifts his legs up at the edge of my bed, like he's totally forgotten trying a new position, quickly letting them fall back down. There's a glimmer in his eyes. "Doggy style is my absolute favorite," he says, starting to turn over.

I'm silent watching him move toward my headboard, getting on his arms and knees and spreading his legs wide apart so that I can climb between them, his ass sticking up in the air. He looks so fucking hot like this. Kyle twists his head to me expectantly, his eyes urging me to mount him.

I crawl into my bed, my body slotting between his legs, his wet, hairless slit visible between his cheeks. His butt isn't as big as mine, but it's still fucking beautiful. Looking down at it, I know I need to taste his ass again. I lower my head down and spread the smooth globes apart with my hands, his pink hole almost gaping open as I lap my tongue against his crack. I can taste traces of my cum on his skin even though he'd pushed most of it out during the shoot and showered. There must have been more lodged inside him, some of the remnants of my first load forced out as he rode my dick on the couch. My cock pulses knowing that my seed is still buried in his guts, knowing that he'd fucked his ass with some of my jizz as lube.

"Yeah, lick my hole!" Kyle begs. "That feels so good!"

He's so loose from riding me that I'm easily able to dig the tip of my tongue into his ass, the taste of my cum growing stronger as I press deeper. I don't even care about tasting myself, loving the way Kyle is groaning as I work my tongue into his hole. He fucking loves this, and I love knowing that I'm making him feel as good as I'd felt when he ate my ass on the couch.

"Fuck yeah," he grunts. "Shove your tongue inside me. Fucking make out with my hole!"

I moan into Kyle's ass, starting to thrust my tongue in and out of him as he whimpers. "Dude, I taste my fucking load inside you," I say when I lift my face back, his hairless pink hole now covered with my spit.

He twists his head back, his blue eyes wild. "Yeah? You going to give me another big load? Want to fucking eat it out of me when we're done?"

Fuck! My dick is throbbing and I can't take waiting anymore. I position my eight inches against his wet hole, grabbing on to Kyle's hips. "You ready to take this dick again?"

"Give it to me!" he begs. "Fuck my ass up with that huge cock!"

I spit on my dick, pressing the head into Kyle, feeling his warm, tight ass wrapped around me again. How is he still so fucking tight after riding me so hard on the couch? He's fucking incredible! I bottom out in one stroke, Kyle loudly groaning as his butt easily swallows my length.

"Yeah!" he grunts. "Fuck yeah!"

I'm grinning staring down at his hairless cheeks, my pubes pressed against his skin, my whole dick now shoved back inside him, back where it fucking belongs. "You're so fucking good at taking this cock," I hiss.

"Fuck me!" Kyle pleads. "Fuck me hard like you did earlier! I need that big fucking dick!"

Most girls complain that I'm too big, that I'm giving them too much, and I have to settle for fucking them with part of my length. This little gay guy had already destroyed himself riding me on the couch, fucking his ass until his legs gave out, and now he's begging for more, his used up hole still tighter than any chick's pussy. He's desperate for me to keep fucking him hard. This is so fucking hot.

I start thrusting my cock into Kyle's ass, holding nothing back, watching his cheeks bouncing as my strokes grow increasingly violent. "You like that?" I grunt, slamming my shaft into his guts.

"Yeah!" he whimpers, his feet latching around my legs like he's holding me there to plow him. "Fuck yeah! Take my ass! Fucking use me!"

Holy fucking shit. I ream him harder and harder, pulling his body into my dick with my hands still lodged on his hips, driving Kyle into me as I'm drilling into him with everything I have. Fucking him harder than I ever had during the shoot, hearing him moan and whimper more fervently than he had all day, I think he's going to plead to tap out at any moment, but he fucking takes it all. He takes everything I have to give. His ass is wet and tight and still totally open and I'm definitely on edge already, seeing little white globs of my first load plastered on my dick as I viciously saw into him. "Your ass is so fucking good," I growl. "Better than pussy. So much better than pussy!"

"Fuck my pussy!" he screams. "Fucking stretch that pussy out with your huge dick!"

Why did I fucking say that? Hearing him calling his smooth pink gash a pussy, knowing that my dick is effortlessly gliding into him from the head to my balls, I almost lose my load. I have to stop pounding Kyle, resting my dick inside him, finally appreciating that I'm completely drenched in sweat again. The room is warm and the beads are cascading down all over me, some of them dripping onto his back.

Kyle peers back at with me the hungriest fucking look on his face, like he doesn't understand why I stopped. "Fuck me," he begs, his blue eyes ravenous. "I need your fucking load inside me!"

Oh shit! I tear into his insides again, slapping his ass hard with both my hands, Kyle yelling loudly as I bury my fingers into his hips, his hairless ass bouncing even more vigorously as I pummel him with my eight inches. I love fucking this little gay guy. I'm not even on the clock anymore, not even getting paid, but I fucking love it. He's making my dick feel so good, too good, my orgasm beginning to build. "You want to me to load that fucking pussy up?" I grunt.

"Yeah!" he shouts. "Load my pussy up! Fucking breed me!"

Breed me. God that's fucking hot. With a couple more rough strokes I'm gripping his hips harder than ever, burying my cock to the hilt as my load explodes into his guts. I throw my head back, making the most obnoxious and incomprehensible noises as my seed violently erupts into Kyle's ass for the second time that day, my cock spraying the ropes of cum as deep up into his insides as it possibly can.

"Fuck yeah!" he grunts. "Fuck yeah! Fill my pussy up with your cum!"

I'm still shooting into him when I feel his ass clamping around my hard shaft, his insides gripping so hard it's almost painful.

"I'm fucking cumming too!" Kyle yells, his butt spasming around my dick, the little gay guy groaning wildly with my length lodged inside him.

Feeling his hole relax, his moans dissipating, part of me just wants to keep fucking. I want to watch my load spilling out all over my cock as I fuck him again, as I force him to keep making those sounds, Kyle eagerly calling his ass a pussy. But I'm sweaty and breathless and I definitely need a break. I let my still hard dick slip out of his butt, groaning the second I pull away. His smooth pink ring is gaping open, a trickle of my cum instantly leaking out, streaming down Kyle's sack and dripping down onto the sheet.

Fuck. I squeeze myself between his body and the bedroom wall, Kyle still panting as he turns over. I can see a big wet spot on my bed where he'd shot his load as he settles on his back, lying right on top of it and nestling his body beside mine.

"That was so fucking hot," he whispers, grabbing my hand and intertwining our fingers. "Your dick is...that was amazing."

I'm still struggling to catch my breath, sweat dripping down my body. "Yeah," I pant. He's a fucking professional and I just rocked his world. Is this what anal is always like? I'm going to start trying to fuck girls up the ass all the time. God his ass was so fucking good. We're lying next to each other and I still don't feel freaked out. Even after an hour of intense cardio I'm tempted to climb between Kyle's legs right now to thrust my dick back into him, and I'm definitely boned up enough to do it. "How long is the fucking Viagra supposed to last, man?" I ask, frustrated that I already want to plow his ass again. "I'm still so fucking horny."

Kyle laughs, gripping my hand tightly. "You know it doesn't actually make you horny, right?" he says like the information means nothing. "You still have to be turned on to get hard. The pill just makes it easier."

Now I finally feel a little horrified. "There's no way," I mumble, not believing him at all. There's no way he's capable of turning me on this much. He's a fucking dude. Why am I still holding this fucking gay guy's hand?

"I'm serious, you still have to be turned on to get hard," he insists, pausing for a few seconds. "I'm, um...a little nervous to tell you this, but a lot of the straight guys have to look at porn on their phones between angles and positions to keep their erections up."

Oh my god. I hadn't even considered looking at porn during the shoot, my eager dick raring to have Kyle all over it the whole time. When Todd asked if I needed a moment to firm up, I was perfectly fine to keep going. The little gay guy has to be fucking me with me. "There's no way that's true," I mutter, almost glaring at him as I free myself from his hand. Why was I still fucking touching him?

Kyle turns on to his side, digging an elbow into my bed and propping his head up with his hand, looking at me seriously. "Hey, I'm not trying to scare you," he whispers. "I'm just being honest."

I don't say anything. I want to force him out of this fucking bed. What the fuck did I just do?

"There's nothing wrong with being bi," Kyle continues, his voice soft and sympathetic. "I really meant it when I told you I've met a few guys who never even considered it until they started filming."

Fuck, he's serious. Fuck! "No, I'm not bi," I say resolutely, turning my head away. What the fuck is wrong with me? Kyle tries to touch his hand to my chest and I rip it away. "I like girls, man. I don't know what the fuck this was."

He's quiet beside me for a few seconds. "I'm not saying you don't like girls. Do you want to talk about it?"

I don't answer. What the fuck did I just do? No wonder we're not supposed to be hanging out together off set. This is a fucking nightmare. I should have just let him drive away. I should have buried all this shit deep and fucking ignored it.

"You, um...you want me to leave?" Kyle asks, sounding hurt.

That's the easiest fucking question of the day. "Yeah, man, maybe you should go," I mumble, still looking at the bedroom wall.

"Ok," Kyle whispers. "Can I, um, text you later maybe? Just in case you want to talk?"

Why the fuck does the little gay guy want to text me? We're done. He doesn't try to touch me again. "I don't think so, dude," I say to the wall. I feel him shifting in the bed, his feet hitting the floor.

"Ok."

That's all he says. I hear him walk down the hallway to the living room, a minute of silence passing before his clothes start rustling as he's pulling them back on. The door opens and swings shut.

Now the shame and regret is a fucking deluge. I still don't believe Kyle about the Viagra, but even if what he said is true, I hadn't busted in a whole week when we shot the scene together. I would have been excited to have anyone touching me. And right now, I'm still insanely fucking horny and a little drunk. People make bad decisions all the time when they're drunk, and I could be on a fucking billboard as an example. I do the dumbest shit when I'm drunk, like spending all of my money and forcing myself into Bob Howard's hands, like asking Kyle to come home with me right now. I climb out of my bed to get some water, but I instantly observe wet spots all over my sheets: cum, sweat, probably fucking drool as much as his gay ass loved getting reamed. I rip them off the mattress, balling them up and throwing into the washer before I grab a glass in the kitchen. I notice the little notepad on my kitchen countertop has been disturbed when I turn around, a page torn off and stuck next to it. Kyle had written his name and his phone number down on the fresh sheet, the pen laid across it. He's fucking desperate to see me again, of course, but I can't fault him for that. He just got so fucking lucky. I tear the page off and crumple it up, tossing it into the trash.

Getting wasted is the last thing I should do right now, since I'm supposed to work a shift tonight and I'm still a couple hundred bucks short on the rent, but it's all I can think about. Fuck it, I'll let the property manager charge me $50 for paying a few days late. I need to get totally fucking sloshed.

I find a coworker eager to cover for me when I offer the Saturday night up, taking a long shower to cleanse myself of every remnant of Kyle, and then I don an outfit that shows off my ass and arms. I head out the door, vaulting a block away to my favorite bar. I'll fucking prove to Kyle what I really like, who I really am. His phone number is buried in the fucking garbage, exactly where it belongs. This is the last time I'm putting myself in this hopeless position, if I really can't depend on my parents to help me out. I've finally hit rock bottom. I just fucked a dude for free. What the fuck is wrong with me?