Behind the Scene

The ad business is very lucrative particularly if your place in it does not depend on sales, stars, placement, three martini lunches or dealing with dilettantes who could make a lot of money if what they did worked out well for all  concerned. I didn't have to bother with the set, hair and makeup, direction, lighting etc. I didn't even know where the studio was and didn't give a fuck. In my craft, and it was one, I was a top rated editor, worked freelance and made a can full of money. Things were fine, I could easily support myself as well as Madison my boyfriend of some years. 

Much to be said about Maddy. Ten years younger and not bright in any sense of the word, his world was the gym and his body and, oh yeah, me. He liked to be fucked, he liked to suck, sexually, there wasn't anything he didn't like or wouldn't do. Some of what he did do and where we did it left me wondering if it was a Federal offense to spread your semen upon the water in the Fountain in front of Lincoln Center. And, for him, me too, that was tame. His feeling was that clothing had a place but only occasionally on him. His trips to and from the gym were made in sneakers, a pair  of nylon jogging shorts and what was left of a T shirt that might, or might not, have said "Williams College".  In winter, with my insistence, he wore a jacket and, with practically a gun to his head, some sweats. I gave up when it came to even trying to introduce him to socks.

Maddy was an inch or so shorter than me but I could easily hide  behind him. His beautiful body was worked out, worked over and worked on virtually everyday save the day or so he stayed in to clean the apartment, do the grocery shopping as well as the laundry. This latter was a problem in that every gay male waited for laundry day to the extent that, just to confuse them, I would show up, or already be there, sucking his cock whilst sticking an outsize dildo up his ass. What ever it did for the onlookers, it made Maddy the best sort and folder one might know. Our exits were the stuff porn is made from; Holding the laundry basket under one arm, he held be upside down to continue blowing him or licking his horse chestnut balls. Often he went up the stairs and by that I mean he bounced up the stairs which, now and then, left me cross-eyed and a mouth full of cream or crème-your choice, churned into butter.  

A further description of his isn't really possible for, as long as I've known him, writing how he looks means cleaning the bottom of the laptop and hoping my shots didn't interfere with it's electronic innards. Lets just leave at.....he looked real good.

Given that, it may be puzzling as to why I'd even consider taking a part time job that paid squat and kept me away from home? Who in their everlasting mind would leave the fucking prize of all men alone in the evenings??  The answer is somewhat simpler than you might think if the whole of the situation is considered; Maddy and I were together a lot and  that can be too much. We both needed the occasional break from each other and part time jobs were the answer. And, yes, for Maddy to find any part time job was like building Noah's Ark with toothpicks. He could not, I repeat, not be anyplace where he could be seen; The idea of his flipping burgers in a window on a street would be calamitous for all concerned. A shop clerk was another impossibility as for all that I love him, he isn't bright enough to sort through things or wait on customers. I'll back up right there. He could easily wait on customers, the problem would be the many, many customers who didn't give a damn if he waited on them or not, they were there for the look/see. He was offered a great many jobs, all of them by men who said, "there's nothing to doing this" and I believed that. However, I rewrote it as, "there's nothing to doing me".  

My part timer was an extension of my day job in that a buddy who made porn offered me a job editing his sleaze. (His term, not mine,) It wasn't taxing, got me out of the house for a few hours and made me more aware than ever at how low standards can be.  Anyone who believes porn reflects reality has never really seen it. Yes, the acts of sex remain as they do in everyday life, just expanded and made more, I hesitate to use the word, titillating for the viewer. At first my tendency to revert to advertising editing worked against me as I was accustomed to looking for lint in the air, badly worked scenes etc. My first day, when I handed in eight pages of possible edits my buddy looked at me and pointed out that while, technically I was correct, no one gave a shit as to whether the guy with the twelve inch cock was mysteriously able to get his pants off without removing his shoes. In really life, most men on the prowl for S E X don't bother about much save getting their rocks off. Thereafter I only cared about such details as to whether cum has obscured the lens or the set had fallen over. Oh, and my main thing to search for was whether from scene to scene, the guys kept their cocks up at the same height. (Did I mention this was gay porn? I meant to.)

Meanwhile back at my stable, my stallion was feeling guilty as I was working and he was not. In a scene my buddy would have loved to have on video, I assuaged Maddy in every sexual way I knew how. Let us just say the two hour blow job, the four deep fucks, sucking his nipples until they looked like a shadow of Mt. Fuji as well as eating him, chewing on his balls, using all ten of my fingers to oh-so-slowly get him up......The next day at my master editor, my fingers, really, all of me, could barely manipulate.  But Maddy was happy, sort of, or he was satisfied and promised to return all the things done for him the next evening. Going home seemed more like a threat.

That evening, trying to watch two men, who would be considered underfed even in a famine, play master and slave-using vinyl covered whatever as chest coverings did not give anyone the idea of what leather might do. Fritzi, my buddy, dropped in to find me virtually asleep while the screen showed nothing. Sometimes buddies are fine things to have and this was the moment. He was, of course, perfectly aware of Maddy, knew him reasonably well in fact so when I explained the part time job problem for him he looked at me as if I were deranged. 

"Porn", he practically screamed. "If there was anyone ripe for porn it's Maddy. Any studio, really quality ones, would pay him big bucks to show up and just strip."

"And then what?". It seemed an obvious question. Just having a naked man, however fantastic he looks just standing around is pointless.

Fritzi went slightly sideways. "Well, I dunno, maybe someone could....suck him or....run their hands...."

"Over what? My Maddy?".  Nope, erase that thought. He's a sweet guy to whom the world of porn is virtually unknown. 

Fritzi looked amazed. "Don't the two of you ever peel down slide something in the old viewing machine and get off watching two other guys do something?" 

"Why? Maddy and I are our own porn show. I've done anything you can name in my living room, bedroom, bathroom, kitchen......we once broke the door from the oven...." And paused as I didn't really want to explain the whole accident. Particularly the part about a gallon of Extra Virgin Olive Oil. Some things are sacred.

"That's It you cretin, Jesus motherfucking Christ, you and Maddy. You don't even need to be taught what to do?"

I saw this one coming, picture and frame. "Oh no, not this Huckleberry. I have made a spectacular living staying away from the camera and now isn't the time to start. Look at me, do I look like anything anyone would pay money to watch? Fuck, they'd pay money not to watch me..."

"But what would they pay to see Maddy? You're just there as, I don't know, set decoration and, besides, I've seen your body and while I'm not going to put it on posters to sell anything, it's an okay body not to mention your basic good looks. Member when the mens makeup people wanted you to be made up?"

I remembered it clearly. I had said no so fast they'd been blown out the door with instructions to never, ever approach me again about anything save editing. And went back to trying to make Mayonnaise look either sexy or tasty: Hopefully both.

Later that night, really later that night-Fritzi and I had argued for some while during which I segued a number of men into not very compromising positions. (Maddy and I were light years ahead of them in doing not just anything but everything.) Home was a haven even if I worried that my favorite person was more than primed to do, well, whatever he thought of to do. I undressed en route to the bedroom where, as expected, my lover was open armed, assed and mouthed for me to hop in and begin whatever. 

He was taken aback when I simply fell in his arms and started to puddle on his chest. He'd never seen me cry so he was horrified, held me tighter, tried to say comforting things but just holding on while confusion blotted his mind. 

It took a while but eventually the exhaustion and fighting with Fritzi over a domestic problem wore away and I lay there, my dick not even hard, and breathed irregularly. His instincts from childhood kicked in as he lifted me in his arms and didn't even try to get my cock even to half staff. He tried to understand but he wasn't up to guessing and so went for the obvious that something was physically wrong. (That limp rod was a site he'd only infrequently seen and only then after a few hours of intensive draining.) His life at the gym as well as working on muscle and fitness magazines had given him a bizarre form of medical education. Since, obviously, nothing seemed broken, sprained or bruised, that left really serious internal issues. (He'd once been in an article that talked about testicular cancer and the use of steroids.)  Having decided what was wrong, he started to cry and we reversed out thoughts. Now it was my turn to try and comfort him without knowing what was wrong. One thing I didn't do was even attempt to pick him up.

A quiet hour passed during which we ended up on the balcony, stark naked, and very silent. Finally, as it was all I could think to do, I told him about Fritzi and what he wanted to do with my guy. Clearly, I said, that was beyond the pale, I couldn't allow him to lower himself to some sleazy.....

"Why not?"

"What?"

He thought and spoke slowly. "I think it would be fun and I love you for not wanting me to do this but...what am I actually doing?" I was silent and trying to swim my way through the meaning of what he was saying, not an easily done thing. Nothing helps me think more than being on my knees and sucking his cock so that's what I did. He was relieved that things were coming back to normal.

"A body like this....a real body, belongs to you....and anyone who wants to watch us. Why not? I bet it would pay real good."

I bet it would as well but.....my point was getting as confused as a milk shake on puree, didn't he understand that displaying yourself could be seen, to some, not me of course, as, well, not quite nice. Something men didn't do. The fault was that we did do it, all the time, and in all sorts of place. For a very, very select few friends we'd played "Sex" in front of them, making sure everyone had a box of tissues and a roll of paper towels.

He popped me from his lovely penis, picked me up and sat me on his lap. "Everyday people think I do porn. I get that question, one way or another all the time. It's just assumed. I'm gay, I live with a man, I don't work.....so I must be doing porn on the side."

Much as I wanted to, I couldn't argue with what he was saying. God knows I was asked what it was like to live with a porn stallion to which it was patiently explained that, no, he didn't do porn, he was just a nice guy who worked out a lot. Whether many believed me, now that I thought about it, was hard to calculate, Probably not very many.

It was again, time for our salute to Manhattan which consisted of going to the railing, quickly jerking off and letting the sperm fall where it may. (If the wind was just right, that was on the balcony below us. And I know that as the guy who lived there had complained about the bird shit that occasionally fell on his glass table. In a way I resented my seed being compared to bird doo doo but it did give me an answer as to where our product went.)

Maddy was lost in something. "You see how easily we did that? Just reached down and, zip, out it came BUT if we wanted to, we could have stood there until the sun came up just going in and out, edging ourselves.....we've done it lots of times. I thinks that's some sort of talent. I know your body so well and you know mine.....that it would be a snap, Less time than a photo shoot for a magazine cover. "

A small snake of horror came out of my ass, wound around and plunged into my cock, He meant the two of us. Together. Frolicking nude with cameras rolling doing whatever we did at home only...not at home. There was a certain cockeyed logic save that he'd included me. And then I was hit with his home run logic.

"I'd never do it without you. Couldn't." He was very quiet. I knew then as I always had that he loved me. It also suddenly occurred to me that all his years of working on his body did deserve some sort of, I don't know, reward. He'd never even considered body building contests-tho he could easily have done very well if not won. All this time, I was his only reward and he was satisfied. I couldn't decide which to do to prove how much I loved him and settled on an old fashioned kiss. That, of course, led to a rather lengthy session of two men enjoying each other. So much so that the next day I had to call and say I'd sprained something or other and couldn't walk. The latter part was true.

Another truth was that along the road to perdition both of us had become sexual athletes. We needed nothing but each other and we were off to the races whenever and wherever. We'd never need a fluffer to keep us up, some days we had a sort of intramural contest as to whom could keep it hard the longest; I never won but losing was as much fun as winning since I was what the winner collected,

It took a week but one Saturday, with Maddy beside me, I had Fritzi dro by to, he thought, discuss my editing. No point in leading up to it, Maddy told him that he was now in porn and he was to be his agent. Our agent, really, as he wouldn't work without me. 

His medical skills were suddenly useful as Fritzi fainted and knicked his head on the edge of a table. When he came to you could see him counting dollars. To encourage him-Hah, like he needed it-we both slipped out of our clothes and began a festive 69 on the sectional. His phone/camera made what he called our 'face books' and, a few solo shots of both of us were thrown in. Needless to say, the ones of me were shadowed and put well behind the ones of Maddy. The one of him drooling cum, his, from his mouth said it all in terms of gaining an entrance to the porn industry.  

My days are now largely spent at the gym with Maddy and some of our lesser "stars". He could and did make demands that were met, particularly when what was promised we could do was proved. We both sported a nice tan, the result of a "shoot" in Florida and another in Argentina by the magnificent Iguassu Falls.  We were well known as the couple that could and did and do everything; We'd been photographed doing it. Maddy won some sort of important award at a porn convention and we finally made Fritzi join us in a three way that lasted two hours and sold for I know not how much money. Fritzi is now also tanned. 

Our lives haven't changed much. What we do in front of a camera isn't what we do at home. I had to give up my job but got another one editing our productions. Fritzi got his dick pierced as well as tattooed and we go on as ever. Come home, shower, have sex of one form or another,, nap, fuck each other, watch the eleven o'clock, do our own twisted version of a 69 and drift off with each of out cocks in each other's mouth.  

All worked out for the better. Had I stayed at my old job, the next campaign up involved stuffing turkeys and why see things getting stuffed at the office what you can  stuffed at home?