Show-Offs

“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.”

“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?”

“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?”

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.

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.

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.

“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.

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.

“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.

I was almost too worked up, though. I backed off until just my fingertips were touching Jeff’s. Getting used to him again. Letting down my defenses. Letting him in. We didn’t talk. Marco could damn well dub in music later.

I don’t know which of us moved first. One minute his mouth was hot and wet on my finger, the next we were kissing. I fell or he pushed me back on the bed—probably a little of both. Then we were rolling around on the sheets, groping blindly for each other, our dicks pressed together between us. I opened my mouth to breathe and sucked in his tongue.

We were too turned on for refinements. When Jeff started licking my ear, I twisted around and latched on to a nipple. That had the expected result. My country boy threw me flat on my back and straddled me—his fat, juicy cock snuggling right up against my lips. He positioned himself over me, on his knees and elbows, his legs widespread so he could lower himself onto my face. Then Jeff pulled my legs up and back so he had access to everything he wanted. Marco always liked sixty-nining. He was damn well going to get it today.

About two seconds later, I decided Marco was an idiot for not letting us come at least once before the cameras started rolling. My skin felt like it was reaching toward Jeff everywhere we touched. I fought not to shoot as he rubbed his face against my crotch. I gasped, wiggling as Jeff kissed the head of my dick. It was almost more than I could stand.

I tugged on his balls, trying to distract myself by licking his scent from them. It didn’t help. It only made me want him more. His velvety shaft brushed against my cheek, teasing me. I opened my mouth. Using just my lips, I tugged his foreskin down over the slippery head. A drop of tangy juice oozed onto my tongue.

Jeff froze, and I panted—ignoring Marco’s comment and his muttering that we definitely hadn’t given him enough footage yet. I clenched the muscles in my arms, concentrating on the details of the condo mortgage, on how nice Marco’s clipboard would look shoved up his ass, trying to will myself back under control.

“Whatever you say, lover.” Jeff had taken his mouth off my dick, but he couldn’t seem to quit touching me. Pretty soon, his hand moved to my perineum. He started stroking, gently at first, then more firmly, gradually moving down, touching, rubbing. He drooled spit onto me—lubing the way for his fingers. By the time I finally got my breathing halfway under control, Jeff was playing with my asshole. He kept my legs spread wide, so the cameras could catch the way he was stroking me—the slow, lazy, slippery circles.

When he slipped the tip of his finger into me, I moaned and gave it up. I knew right then how the rest of the scene was going to go. Jeff’s fingers were talking directly to my asshole. I opened my mouth and took the tip of his cock between my lips—kissing him, working the soft, warm hood over the glistening head, tugging gently on his smooth, heavy balls. We were too far gone to go slowly. If Marco wanted more cinematic buildup, he could damn well edit it in later.

I did. When I was on all fours over him, Jeff stuffed a pillow under his head. I spread my legs wide and dropped down until just the tip of my cock rested on his lips. I hoped the cameras were getting everything they needed, because I wasn’t about to budge for anyone but Jeff. And he had me right where he wanted me. He put his hands on my hips and pulled me down toward him. Then his hands were on my asscheeks, massaging them, spreading them wider. My cock fell forward onto his neck as I felt the featherlight touch of his breath caressing my asshole.

I groaned, jumping at the first touch of his tongue. It was hot, it always is. He licked the edge of my crack, wetting skin that usually doesn’t see daylight, especially not in my movies.

I nuzzled my cheek against his cock, kissing him, inhaling his scent. I wanted to let him know how much I appreciated his touch. Then I rested my face on his thigh, facing camera two, and focused all my attention on my asshole, just the way I knew Jeff wanted me to.

I didn’t try to control my reactions. I’m not dignified in bed. Not in real life. I moaned as Jeff rimmed me. He licked up and down my crack. I gasped the way I always did when the tip of his tongue flicked over my asshole. I knew what was coming. I wiggled my ass at him, asking for it—begging. Loud and slutty. I didn’t care who saw me. I hoped the cameras were catching every whorish grind for posterity.

Jeff stuffed spit up my hole. His fingers held me wide open, stretching my sphincter. Each touch of his tongue let him slip that much farther in. My asslips fluttered, reaching back for him as he kissed and sucked. He licked farther into me, caressing the inner skin, way inside, where the smooth surface was usually puckered tightly closed. With each step, he stretched me wider.

I yelled when his tongue sank into me. I mean, Jeff dug his hot, nasty tongue into my ass and he ate me. He tongue-fucked my hole until I was almost screaming. Harder, deeper, hotter, he spread my cheeks so far apart it felt like my skin was splitting. I pushed back against him, grunting, bearing down, opening my asshole to him as he slurped. I didn’t care what I looked like. My asslips kissed his tongue like it was his cock.

I cried out as he pulled away. He pushed me over onto my back, still sixty-nining, pressing his cock against my lips. I sucked him greedily into my mouth, inhaling the slippery, salty tang where the precum leaked out of his bunched foreskin.

“That’s it, lover,” he growled, thrusting into my mouth. His cock got longer, growing against my tongue. “Get it hard and get it wet. You know where it’s going.”

He was already like a rock, but I sucked, opening my jaw wider as his shaft thickened and stretched even farther. His bared head was completely out of the foreskin now, the sensitive crown pressing against my tonsils, his cock filling my mouth. I breathed in through my nose, and as my lungs filled, Jeff thrust, gently, against the back of my throat. I tipped my head and opened to him, gagging as he slipped in deep. It was like trying to swallow a baseball bat. He shook—I love feeling him quiver, even when I’m suffocating. Then he pulled up and settled against me, his breath ragged, his cock resting above my mouth where I could play with it at my leisure—where the camera could catch every wet lick of me working the folds of his skin, sticking my tongue in his piss slit, sucking his low-hanging smooth balls until they were pink and slippery.

In spite of his shivers, Jeff pulled my legs up and back. He braced his elbows on the bed, his biceps against the backs of my thighs. It was a perfect ass shot. I was spread wide and my hole was open. Virgin ground for Marco’s cameras. I heard the click of the bottle cap, smelled the coconut. Then Jeff’s oiled hands glided over my cheeks. He smoothed the side of his hand up and down my open crack, brushing over my hole, gradually concentrating on rubbing my hungry, grasping sphincter. His fingers started stretching me.

“Not today,” Jeff snickered as he put one hand on each cheek. His index and middle fingers pulled me open. With each stroke, his fingers reached in farther. He kept pulling, stretching me wider, until my whole world was my asshole. I groaned as he kissed the inside of my thigh, his finger once more sliding over my asslips.

He laughed, shivering as I swallowed against him. This time, when his finger went in, it dug deep. I groaned, long and loud, feeling the familiar jolt as he found what he was looking for.

This time, his laugh gave me goose bumps. “I will, lover.” I groaned as he rubbed, harder. “But I’m going to massage it with something designed specifically to make your slutty ass purr.”

He pulled his hand out. My nose twitched as the smell of coconut again filled the air. I jumped as I felt the nozzle against my asslips. His fingers pulled my asslips open, then the cool oil trickled into me, deep down into my hole, lubing it, getting it slippery wet.

Jeff moved off me, his dick making a wet, plopping noise as it popped out of my mouth. He pressed the oil bottle into my hand. Then he was between my legs, lifting my thighs up and back, spreading them wide. I bent my knees and he pressed them back toward my shoulders, tipping my ass high in the air.

This time I did laugh. The head of Jeff’s cock was pressed into my asscheek—hot, demanding. I squeezed a huge puddle of oil into my hand, slathered the slippery grease over his cock, stroking, getting him even harder. I dropped the bottle next to myself and positioned him against me, rubbing his dripping dickhead against my hungry, hungry hole.

My asslips fluttered against him, kissing him. I stroked his shaft, slicking the oil over him one more time, looking right into his hot, velvety eyes—velvety as his dick skin.

I don’t know who said it. I didn’t care. I cried out as Jeff’s monster cock started crawling up my hole. They’d said to do it for real, and that’s the way Jeff and I fucked each other—only each other. Bareback.

I gasped as Jeff pressed into me. It burned; oh, god, it burned. It always did. Jeff’s dick was so big and so thick and so fucking, fucking hard. I panted, keeping my mouth open, bearing down, willing myself to relax as my asslips stretched. I felt like I was being split in two. It hurt and it burned and, fuck, I wanted it.

My sphincter relaxed in a rush, and Jeff slid in to the hilt. I lay back down, taking deep breaths, willing my body not to shake, not to panic at the sheer size of the cock buried deep in my rectum.

“Easy lover.” Jeff’s thumbs stroked the backs of my thighs. He was breathing hard, holding himself still over me. “It’ll be okay in a minute. I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

The pain passed, slowly, the way I knew it would. Gradually I became aware of another pressure, of the hard cock nuzzling against my joyspot. Pressing precum out of me. I looked up at Jeff. His face was flushed, his shoulders and arms and chest glistening with sweat. My cock twitched at the sight of him. I felt the jolt all the way around my asshole.

I grappled on the bed for the bottle, slathered oil on my hand. Then I grabbed ahold of my long, hard porn-star cock and growled up at my panting lover. “Show me what you’ve got, fucker.”

I yelled as Jeff shoved into me. Then he started fucking me, wild and fierce, his balls slapping against me. I cried out each time he punched my joyspot. I could tell I wasn’t going to last long. Each time he hit my prostate, I surged closer, my juices boiling, ready to erupt. Ready to explode. I jacked myself faster, trying to match Jeff’s rhythm. With each stroke I pulled waves of pleasure through my ever-expanding dick.

Jeff slammed his hips into me, punching into my joyspot—just the way I’d begged him to, just the way he knew I loved it. My hole clenched, hard and greedy. Then I howled as the orgasm washed over me. My dick and my prostate and my asshole became one continuous scream of pleasure. My cum spurted out and I yelled until my throat hurt.

It was a helluva money shot. The wet splats landed on my chin and my neck and my tits. The last couple on my belly. Jeff ground his hips into me, twitching his dick inside me until I swear every drop of sperm in my balls shot out my cocktube. I shook like my bones were breaking.

I was totally wiped out. As my hand stilled, I looked up. Jeff was balanced over me, his arms shaking, his breath erratic, sweat dripping down onto me. His face was a mask of concentration as he arched his cock into me, prolonging my pleasure.

Jeff gasped, his eyes glazing. We were the only ones in the world. My hole was raw and sore and stretched so loose it felt like it would never be tight again. I didn’t care.

Jeff’s cry was incoherent as he started thrusting into me again, pounding toward his climax. His dick slurped in and out of me, wet and sloppy. I tried to tighten for him. I managed a light twitch before my muscles gave out. He felt it—he shivered.

His cock ravaged my asshole with fast, deep, full strokes. I tugged hard, rhythmically, on his tits. His breathing was so fast, I knew he was right on the edge. I lifted my hips, taking him as deep as I could, rocking back as he bottomed out, as his body stiffened.

“You fucker,” I gasped, an evil laugh deep in my throat. He’d destroyed my hole. I was sore as hell and, damn, it felt good. I jerked hard on his nipples. “Do it!”

“Aargghh!” Jeff’s roar almost deafened me. He buried himself balls deep, his whole body shuddering; his thick, hard cock pulsing, stretching, throbbing against my poor battered asslips.

Marco’s curses degenerated into Italian. I tuned him out as Jeff collapsed on me. Jeff’s breathing was ragged. He kissed me, clumsily missing my lips, then connecting. I lowered my legs and wrapped them around his waist, holding him to me in a ferocious bear hug.

Jeff pressed against me for a long time, his breathing slowly returning to normal. Finally he started to wiggle against me, his shoulders moving as he laughed into my neck.

When he could finally stop laughing, Jeff rolled off me, his dick pulling free with a loud plop. I reached down between my legs and felt my hole. It was puffy and sticky and about as well-used as a bottom boy’s hole can be. I knew it would be back to normal by morning—it always was. But for now, my butt positively purred.

Jeff grabbed the extra sheet and the blanket from the bottom of the bed and pulled them over us. Then he spooned himself up against my back and wrapped his arms around me. I clenched my butt muscles, enjoying the stretched feeling and the sticky, tacky pull of his drying cum on my skin. The movement caused another trickle to leak out of my asshole and run down my leg. I shivered and pressed back against my lover, against his—for once—softly heavy cock.

I closed my eyes and smiled as Jeff’s breathing deepened. I knew we’d be getting our percentage. Marco was too greedy not to use a scene like we’d just given him. Jeff started to purr. I drifted right behind him. Marco’s video was going to be great. And Jeff and I were even getting paid to sleep.