A life in the day of

The ad requested a professional, and discrete photographer/videographer, to work on a solo, independent project for a private paying client. Michael was immediately intrigued, and emailed his resume, and clips from previously filming works that he'd done, the address posted. He finished getting ready, and went to work. His phone went off during his meeting, and it was all he could do, not to check his email. As soon as he got done with his meeting he checked his email, and had a reply from a Jarron Stepp. He clicked on it, and scrolled through preliminary info, about the project. It was a solo, one on one project, following Jarron around his daily life. The project was titled "A life in the day of..." and it would be the first of a few projects. Jarron had recently come out, and wanted someone to follow him around day and night, for a few weeks. He was offering a $5,000.00 sign on bonus, and then a weekly salary of $1,000.00, plus transportation/food/lodging. He hurriedly scrolled through the minor details of what the expectations were. He needed to be available immediately, and a one way ticket to Chicago was attached. He didn't think twice, and emailed the unit director of his branch, stating he needed to resign his position, and would be working from home the remainder of his notice.

The next few hours flew by. He received his sign on bonus, within minutes after a brief video conference, and e-signature agreement, and Venmo'd his roommate the remainder rent, for the next couple of months. He'd arrange movers, to transport his things into storage, and packed a few necessary tees and jeans, in a single carry on. He Uber'd to the airport, and anxiously awaited his flight. Jarron had already blown up his phone with ideas, and needing feedback. He'd had cameras installed throughout his house, and had an editing room constructed above his garage. Michael would have full access to the quarters, and would have first hand involvement in all of the editing, and cutting of unnecessary footage. Their initial pilot would be completed the next day. Michael's palms were sweaty, as he read through the details. This was going to be a reality/docu-series for a new LGBT channel on a popular streaming app. They'd already received a TV-MA rating, based solely on the script they'd had approved. The script was merely a layout of the day by day filming, and interactions that would take place between the main character, and film crew. Michael read through some of his lines. They were basic questions, and interactive commentary. One of the questions was, "what type of guys do you typically go for?" Michael thought back to a time he'd interviewed his roommate about his sexual development for a human sexuality paper. He'd been surprised when his roommate stated, "it's 2016, everyone is into everything, so my development is ongoing." He'd been cautious, from that point on, during interactions with his roommate. He didn't know why.

He jumped, when the flight attendant announced they were boarding. He reached over, grabbing his bag, and stood up quickly, as the wave of dizziness rushed up. He pressed his leg against the chair, and braced himself for a second, feeling his phone vibrate in his pocket. He'd missed several messages from Jarron, asking if he'd boarded yet. "Just now. Sorry, napped." He quickly replied, and got in line. He'd never flown first class before, and was impressed with the amenities. He ordered a drink immediately, and finished it, and a couple of bottle of water, before nodding off again. He woke up to the announcement, they'd be approaching O'Hare shortly. He rubbed his eyes, and got up to use the bathroom, quickly realizing he had a raging hardon, and put his hands in his pockets, to divert any unnecessary attraction to that area. He pulled his dick out, as soon as he secured the door, and started jerking quickly. He was still fuzzy, and tried to focus his mind on cumming, and doing it quickly. He felt his face flush, thinking about the other dozen first class passengers, and what they may think of him, being in there for more than a couple of minutes. He had to pee so bad, but the toilet was already so small, he wouldn't be able to aim that low. He wasn't huge, but being hard, he was a thick 7.5". He wasn't getting any closer to completion, when he heard a knock on the door, and the flight assistant informed him, he'd need to return to his seat, as they were preparing to land. He felt sweat forming at his hairline, and pushed the loose hairs away from his face, mopping quickly at the beads of sweat.

He was feeling himself getting closer to cumming, when the plane dipped, and he fell back against the wall, sending a jolt of energy through his entire body, pushing him to orgasm. He tried to find balance, but continued to slip back, toward the storage compartment, as he shot a thick load, of several spurts of cum, across the sink, and against the wall mirror. He couldn't cup his hand over himself, and allowed his bodyweight to bring him to the floor, cumming everywhere, but the floor. "Fuck.Me." He mumbled, as he awkwardly tried to get off the floor, while reaching for the paper towel dispenser. He didn't even know where to start, so he loosely wiped at every surface he could see his man juice on. The entire bathroom smelled like cum, and he could feel his body temperature peak. He was putting off his strong musk, from his hairy crotch, and underarms. He squeezed out the last of his load, and dropped the paper towels into the garbage. He lifted the lid, and braced himself against the wall, aiming his semi hard dick toward the bowl. He felt the tingling sensation pulse through him, as his head was filled with the musky after glow, and his still, pulsing prostate was massaged by the thick flow of pee. He was dripping sweat, as he felt as second wave of orgasm rising. "Fuck," he whimpered, and slumped over, quickly pulling at the head, and spurting out a second, smaller load, into the deep blue liquid. "Fuckkkkkkkkk." He dropped his head, and licked his lips, feeling sweat drop from his chin.

He heard another knock at the door, and the assistant was insisting he return to his seat, for his safety, of course. He washed his hands, and dried them, mopping his face quickly, with the damp material. He could see dark spots all over the front of his chinos, and the hem of his shirt, and shrugged, opening the door, to feel the cool cabin hair, his his face. He quickly made his way back to his seat, avoiding any and all eye contact, as his peripherals revealed blurred faces, all watching him walk past. He knew they knew, but nothing could be done. He secured his belt, and felt a nudge from the guy sitting next to him. "I hate taking care of business mid flight, huh?" He nodded, and awkwardly smiled, looking down at his soaked crotch, and thighs. It was worse than it had looked in the dim light of the bathroom. They landed smoothly, and sat for half an hour, while they docked. The dark spots had faded to a familiar flakey, gray color, which made his situation that much more noticeable. The man sitting next to him, kept making awkward conversation about his many trips away from home, and how his wife always took care of him as soon as he'd come in. He was recalling a night he'd walked in through the garage, and his wife had bolted the door locked, and stood naked, in the door way, with nothing but a pair of thigh high boots on. She had written instructions on sheets of paper, and held them up, one by one, essentially making him strip down, and masturbate, while she watched, and masturbated herself. She'd indicated for him to come closer, and squatted down in front of him, with her mouth open, on the other side of the glass. He said the thrill of jerking off in front of his wife, knowing he might be caught, because of the open garage door, made him cum like crazy. The whole window was foggy with cum, from his waist down.

Michael noticed the man squirm in his seat, his voice getting more raspy, while he continued the story, in a low tone. His wife had then let him in, and instructed him to not touch himself, but to walk directly behind her, all the way to their room. He told Michael he'd dripped cum from their garage, to the stairway, and then methodically squatted, so that he'd been able to wipe his dick head between his hairy legs, so he wouldn't drip on the runner, going up their stairwell. He said he was rock hard by the time they made it to their bedroom, and his wife locked the double doors, to their bathroom, pulling the draping aside, so he could see her again. He said he instructed him to masturbate again, while she did the same, but this time, she made him cum in his hand, while she watched, and then she'd opened the doors, and instructed him to eat his own cum. He told Michael it was a salty and sweet taste. He'd never done it until that time, but it wasn't bad. He said his wife had ordered a dildo in the same size and girth as his dick, and played with him the rest of the night. He'd never done anything anal before then, and feeling, essentially, his own dick inside of him, was a "religious experience." Michael asked the obvious, "how big was it?" The man smirked, and leaned closer, "On a good night, it's a thick nine." It suddenly felt like the entire cabin was quiet, and Michael could feel eyes on them. He gulped and pressed back into the chair. He was still sweaty, and felt his shirt sticking to his back.

The man had adjusted himself several times, during their one way conversation, and Michael couldn't help but glance down a few times. He'd never seen anyone bigger than him, in person, and felt a boyish curiosity come over him. The man was clearly erect, after his story, and Michael could see him fidget in his pocket, lightly stroking himself through his thin dress pants. He felt himself getting hard again, and looked away, studying the design in the fabric of the overstuffed chairs. He could feel the man lean in again, and looked over. "I uh, I could show you once we get off this plane, if you're down for a little Mano y Mano show and tell?" He felt his dick hardening, and nodded his head, swallowing hard again. They calmly found the nearest family bathroom, and after a quick glance around, Michael followed the man in. It didn't take the man long to strip, and Michael was surprised at how in shape he was. He'd been wearing a loose fitting dress shirt and pleated pants, so it had concealed quite a surprise. The man had really toned shoulders, and arms, with a largely built chest, that was covered in blonde hairs, that got darker as they centered. There was a small amount of hair around the man's stomach, and a really dark, thick bush of pubes around his dick, which was as he'd described, a thick nine.

Michael stripped down as well, feeling relieved, as the crusty pants folded down, and away from his groin. He was instantly hard again, and the men glanced over each others' bodies, nodding in approval. "So how do you want to do this?" He could see the man's dick flex up and down a few times. "I've never physically messed around with another dude, but I've done mutual masturbation before." "I'm good with that." He braced against the high counter, and started to jerk his dick, while the man did the same, leaning against the door frame, with one arm up, and his hand behind his head. The man was flexing every muscle he could, watching Michael jerk. "You've got a decent package too. You work out, or nah?" "I run a lot, and do some assisted weights every now and then." "Cool, cool. You like guys or girls?" "I like everybody." They both shrugged and giggled. The small family rest room was smelling a lot like a locker room, as they quickly started to breathe heavier, and the tapping sounds got louder, echoing up to the celling. Michael was feeling a familiar rush, and pushed off the back counter, moving toward the man. "Nah man, let's cum in the sink together." "Yeah? Ok." Michael turned, and watched the man move closer toward the sink, in the mirror, his body hair was now matted to his chest and stomach, and his pubes appeared to be dripping with sweat. "Fuck, I haven't cum in three days."

They were breathing heavily, and moaning, as Michael felt himself go over the edge. He didn't bother covering himself, he didn't bother to announce it, he just came. He sprayed against the mirror, and metal hardware of the sink fixture, grunting and moaning. He heard the man grunt as well, and almost jumped, as thick white spurts arched up, almost hitting the lights above the mirror. The man clearly hadn't cum in awhile, as he coated the mirror, and sink, the thick smell of musk and spunk filling their nostrils. "Fuck me, Christ." The man was grunting, and heaving, as Michael quickly glanced over, watching his sweaty body flex, and his stomach move in and out, with that thick dick and balls rising and falling. He swallowed hard, and squeezed his shaft, draining the last of his load into the sink. He squatted down, unzipping his bag, to get some fresh clothes, as the man stood at the sink, still jerking. He pulled on some clean boxers, and jeans, and looked over, seeing the man watching him, sweat dripping off his face. "I feel like I could go again." "You really work yourself up, huh?" They both giggled again, and the man turned, still stroking. "I mean, have you seen a dick this perfect before?" He let go, and flexed his dick up and down. Michael was actually impressed. The dick seemed perfectly symmetrical, and wasn't veiny or discolored in any way. Just a thick, fleshy, white dick. "It's really something." He noticed a drop of cum oozing out of the dip, as it dripped down into his bag. "There, you can take some of me home with you." The man laughed, and shook his head. "Sorry, that's fucked up." Michael nodded, and laughed, "yeah, pretty fucked up." "Wanna watch me bust another one out?" "Absolutely." Michael pulled his t shirt on, and leaned against the counter, while the man continued to jerk. "Fuck, this is how you blow, boy." He arched back, sweat dripping down his hairy chest and stomach, and let go of his dick, as he shot a fountain of thick spurts against the mirror, and again, almost hitting the flights above. "What the fuck?!" Michael gasped, and couldn't believe how much cum this guy was able to shoot.

He'd finished packing his bag, watching the man clean himself off, and start buttoning his shirt, his dick still semi hard, swinging back and forth while he dressed. "Yeah, I'm not one to rush covering all this up, I gotta say." Michael was all set, so he ran some water, wiping what he could, of their mess. "Hey, sorry about all that. I just got really excited and..." "Nah, it's ok. Honestly, I'm impressed. I wonder if anyone's ever done a documentary on the male orgasm, before?" He caught himself thinking out loud, and shrugged, "sorry, just thinking." "Yeah? I'd be down for that. I mean, I would't have to show my face or anything, right?" "No, I mean, I don't know how that would go, but you could edit out your face, for sure." "Here's my card, why don't you let me know if you want to do this for real. It's a gift I don't mind sharing with the world." The man almost seemed too eager, as his eyes lit up, handing Michael his card. "Holy shit, you work for the same company I do." "Yeah? Now that's fucked up." They laughed, and continued talking about accounting, and sales goals, as they walked out of the main terminal. Michael had completely forgotten to message Jarron, as he glanced at his phone. "Shit, I'm supposed to be getting picked up, across the way." He shook hands with the man, as they said a quick goodbye, and he ran across the few lanes of town cars, Ubers and vans.

His driver was an older guy with an amazing beard, and bright gray eyes. He smiled at Michael, flashing really white teeth, and opened the door to the S550. "Mr Stepp is waiting for you." "Thank you," Michael handed his bag to the driver's open hand, and got in. "Michael, I'm beyond thrilled." "Oh!" He turned to see a large, handsome man, extending his hand out. "Thank you, I'm really excited as well." They shook hands. He noticed how put together Jarron was. He was a handsome bi racial man, with an athletic build, but slight pooch, and muscular, legs. He was wearing head to toe Under Armour, and had a movie star quality to him. "I'm surprised by your casual appearance. You seemed so official on your resume, and during our video conference." He could feel Jarron eye him up and down. "I...I guess I wanted to impress you? I don't know." He could feel his face flush, and squirmed slightly in his chair. "No, no, no, no, I'm liking this version of you, better. Don't get me wrong, I expect professionalism, but you look and seem more relaxed, and easy going, which I love." Jarron was masculine, but Michael could see some slight feminine qualities about him as well. He had a really great balance, and his eyes were captivating. This light hazel, brown, with thick, well manicured eyebrows. He had his hair trimmed short, with a stylish fade, and a hint of five o'clock shadow, that seemed deliberate, and well maintained as well. "Are you hungry? I haven't had dinner yet, and I was thinking we could talk briefly over some grub." "Sure, yeah that sounds great!" Michael relaxed, and reached for a bottle of water, from the console. They smiled across the small cabin of the car, and Jarron filled him in on his busy schedule, and how he hoped this coming out event would spark some interest in the film industry, as well as help other guys like him, feel free enough to live in their truth. Michael had noticed, there were several go-pro cameras around the car, and a couple of smaller cameras under the console, and behind the driver's seat. He tried to maintain a relaxed demeanor, as they conversed.

They came to a small sandwich shop, and the driver parked behind the complex, quickly walking around, to let the men out. They went in through a back door, and were immediately seated in the back of the restaurant. There were a few cameras set up inconspicuously around the small room, and Jarron seemed completely comfortable sharing his coming out, with Michael, in front of all the cameras. Michael quickly became comfortable as well, and openly discussed his own curiosities with Jarron, and even the story of the encounter at the airport. "Really!?" Jarron gasped, and sat back quickly. "The boldness of it all. What was it like? Did you find him attractive?" "I mean, it was two guys, who got hard during landing, not much else to explain." Jarron had an infectious laugh, and leaned back, putting his hands over his face. "I love this world we live in. People are becoming more open. It's an exciting time to be alive." “I was curious why you chose ‘a life in the day of,’ as your title? Is it a play on ‘a day in the life of?’” “No, no. It’s a life in the day of, meaning my new life, in the day of acceptance and openness. Our world is ripe with acceptance, in spite of what maybe happening politically. Socially, it’s a great day to have a new life.” “Wow. That’s deep.” “You have no idea.” Jarron winked and took a sip of water, watching Michael smile as his face flushed. 

They enjoyed deli sandwiches on rye, with pickle slices and fruit cups. Jarron had all the puns and jokes about the pickles and fruit, and Michael was quickly falling prey to his charms. He kept reminding himself this was a job, and kept his cool. Even when they got to the house, and he followed Jarron up to his master bedroom. There was a small 4K camera on the side table near the door.

"My bedroom, and bathroom aren't rigged with cameras. This is the me-and-you-only, zone. You keep the camera rolling, and I'll just do what I do, cool?" Michael swallowed hard, and nodded. "Don't be nervous. I want to be as real as I can be. This is my life story, in a way, so it can't be too filtered, or scripted." Michael powered on the camera, and held it up. The quality was amazing, and Michael was astounded at how clear the picture was. It had more definition than the naked eye, and he could see the lens adjusting to the lighting. Jarron walked over to his dresser, and pulled out a couple drawers, rummaging through, grabbing a pair of boxer briefs, and some cabin socks, and walked across the room, toward the bathroom. Michael swallowed hard, again. Shit just got real.