Текст книги "Every Frat Boy Wants It"

Автор книги: Todd Gregory

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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 13 страниц)

Chapter 11

I ut! You guys can take a break now, okay?" I.

I slid my cock out of Chad Revere's ass and squinted over at the director. I couldn't really see him (or was it her? I wasn't really sure) because the sun was directly behind where the others were gathered.

"Can you hand me a cigarette?" Chad asked, rolling over onto his back. Chad wasn't his real name, but I couldn't remember what that was either. I'd met so many people with two names I couldn't keep track of what was real and what wasn't anymore. He was very sexy, with a chiseled, tanned body that was almost completely hairless except for the neatly trimmed pubic hair around his floppy cock. His hair was bleached blond at the tips but dark underneath, and his face was young and innocent looking. His voice was high-pitched and world weary, though, and he spoke with a bit of a lisp. He'd told me before we started the scene that this was his fifteenth video shoot in less than six months. "Dancing and escorting is where the money really is," he'd told me, chain smoking one Marlboro Light after another while we waited for them to set up the scene. "This your first time?"

"Uh-huh." I replied.

"Don't worry about a thing. I'm an old pro-I can get you through it."

Making a porn movie was the last thing in the world I thought I'd be getting myself into when I drove down to Palm Springs in the Flying Couch the day after Christmas. Blair was sitting over with the director and the cameraman somewhere. He'd called me on Christmas, lonely and bored. His father's movie had run over schedule, and he was trapped filming in Australia. "I'm stuck here with nothing but servants," Blair wailed into the phone. "Please tell me you can meet me in Palm Springs tomorrow. Please."

"Okay," I said, "just e-mail me the address so I can Mapquest directions, okay?"

And so, the next morning I threw a suitcase in the trunk of the Flying Couch and headed south out of Polk. It took me about six hours to get there, and when I pulled into the driveway of Steve Blanchard's Palm Springs manse, the white Lexus was already there. I was surprised there was no security gate or anything-given the high tech security of the house in Beverly Hills, the big ranch-style house was pretty open to whoever wanted access to it. The front yard was all sand, with a large cactus here and there, and metal abstract sculptures reflecting the hot sun. I rang the doorbell, and Blair opened the front door just a few moments later. "Thank God you're here!" He flew into my arms, hugging me so tight I could barely breathe. "I was about to slit my wrists."

I laughed, "You're exaggerating." Still, I'd missed him, and luxuriated in the feel of his body against mine. He wasn't wearing a shirt or shoes, just a pair of white cotton tennis shorts with nothing underneath. He'd gotten more tan since he'd left Polk, and I reached down and cupped his hard ass with my hands and squeezed. He hopped up, wrapping his legs around my waist, and I kissed him. My cock responded, despite how tired I was from being in the car for so long, and as his tongue explored my mouth I gently lowered him to the marble floor and pinched his nipples. He gasped and moaned. "Fuck me. Jeff. Right here. I need you so bad." He pulled my T-shirt up over my head and started kissing my chest as I fumbled with my belt. I went up on my knees and pulled my pants down, and he sat up and took me in his mouth. My entire body shivered as he started working my cock with his mouth and tongue. He lapped at my cock like he needed it to survive. With his hands he pushed his own shorts down, and then lay back on the cool floor, spreading his legs for me.

"Fuck me," he pleaded. "Fuck me hard. I need it so bad."

I spit in my hand, rubbed it on my cock and I shoved him backwards. He fell back to the floor and I shoved my cock into him as hard as I could. His lips parted as he cried out, and I drove deep inside of him. "Oh yeah, please, fuck me hard, as rough as you can, please, I need it so bad ..."

I began pumping him, driving my hips back and forth as violently as I could. With each thrust, his head went back and he gasped. His whole body began to shake, and then he came suddenly, squirting out his load all over his chest. I was close so I kept going, pounding and pounding until I finally came with a shout of my own before collapsing on the floor beside him. He rolled over on top of me, burying his head in my neck. "Mmmm," he whispered. "That's exactly what I needed. God, I've missed you."

"You couldn't find anyone down here?" I asked.

He stiffened in my arms. He pulled away from me and sat up. There was a hurt expression on his face. "What is that supposed to mean, Jeff?" He crossed his arms. "I missed you. I wanted you." He scrambled to his feet. "And I thought you wanted me to. I suppose you've been-oh, never mind." To my horror, he started to cry.

"Jeff." I pulled my pants up and hugged him from behind. "I'm sorry. I was only kidding. Of course I missed you." I squeezed him. "Is everything okay?"

"I'm sorry." He wiped his face and leaned back into me. "It just sucked being alone on Christmas. Again." He pulled away from me and picked up his shorts. "Come on, let me show you around."

"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked.

He smiled at me. "Not right now Maybe later." He shook his head. "Follow me."

The house looked small from the driveway, but on the inside it was much bigger. He led me from the foyer into a huge living room with a high ceiling. The floor was the same marble as the foyer; the walls were painted an off white. A small fountain bubbled in one corner of the room, and I saw that it's base drained into a makeshift stream that led outside and emptied into the swimming pool. Over the fireplace was a massive print of Steve Blanchard from his first movie-the one that made him a star. "Wow," I said, walking over to it.

Blair laughed. "Yeah, that's something, isn't it?"

I'd seen The Pool Boy at least twenty times myself. Steve Blanchard had been twenty and had played some small roles in a couple of movies when he landed the starring role. The movie had been intended as a comeback vehicle for Denise Moss, an actress in her forties whose career had kind of slid. She played a woman whose husband had just left her for a younger woman, and who is contemplating suicide when she sees a beautiful young man emerging from her swimming pool naked. He turns out to be her new pool boy, and they wind up having sex. She slowly becomes obsessed with him, and at the very end, she shoots him. But when the film debuted, all anyone-critics and audiences alike-could talk about was the incredible beauty of young Steve Blanchard. The scene where he emerges dripping wet out of the pool in slow motion for the first time, is considered one of the great classic scenes in film history. It was a truly amazing shot. The print showed Steve, soaking wet, emerging naked from the pool, water cascading down every muscle.

"It's kind of creepy to come into the living room and see your father naked," Blair went on. "I'm sure someday I'll have a great conversation with a therapist about it."

I shrugged. "It's a great print, but you're right. I don't think I could handle having something like that around of my dad."

"Come on, let's put your suitcase in our room, then we can go sit by the pool and drink some wine." He winked. "And later on, I'll take you over to meet the neighbors. Did you like that porn I left for you?"

"Yeah, it was hot."

"The producer/director has the house next door." He grinned. "And she's shooting a film this weekend. She said we could watch some of the shoot, if we wanted to."

"That could be interesting."

"Might be good material for you to write about someday." Blair laughed. "You never know. Come on, let me show you around."

The house spread out from the living room. The kitchen was to the right, and beyond that was the master bedroom suite. It was incredibly luxurious, with probably the biggest bed I'd ever seen, and mirrors everywhere. And on every wall were prints of Steve Blanchard. Some dressed, some undressed, from every stage of his career. There were framed magazine covers he'd appeared on, everything from Time to Vanity Fair to Esquire. On a dresser sat several People's Choice awards, and the Emmy he'd won for a madefor-TV movie called Nobody's Hero, in which he'd played a mentally handicapped man who rescued a baby from a burning building. I walked over and picked it up. It was surprisingly heavy. "This room-"

"I call it the Steve Shrine," Blair said, a bitter tone in his voice. "He has this here, because he only comes out here to relax, you know. He can't have all this in Beverly Hills, because people might think he's an egomaniac-and his gimmick is his humility, you know." He made a gagging noise.

"Blair-" I hesitated. "Is everything okay with you and your dad?"

"Later. I'll tell you all that later, okay? But right now, let me show you the rest of the house."

The other side of the house was where the spare bedrooms were-Blair's room was almost as big as the master bedroom, with its own bathroom. As opposed to the rest of the house, Blair's room was filled with photos and prints of Nicole Blair. There wasn't a single picture of his father. And on the mantel of the fireplace stood an Oscar. "Is that your mother's Oscar?"

"Yeah. She gave it to me." Blair walked over and picked it up. "She doesn't care about things like that. Unlike Dad, she's really humble. She does it because she loves the work, not for awards or to be a star. I think that was why their marriage didn't work out-she couldn't stand the whole Hollywood movie star trip Dad's on." He laughed. "But enough about me and my neurotic parents." He jumped on the bed. "Sit down here and tell me all about your Christmas."

I got up on the bed with him and he cuddled into me. I started stroking his hair while I told him about Christmas with my parents. Something's bothering him, I don't know what, buthe's different, something's happened or changed since he left Polk.

"That sounds nice," Blair said. "Look, I'm sorry, I know I've been acting like I'm crazy ever since you've got here. I've just never had a Christmas like a normal person, you know? This time of year it gets to me, is all. I'm usually okay with things, but at Christmas it bothers me."

Once he started talking, the story started pouring out of him. His parents had gotten divorced when he was barely two years old. One of the conditions of the divorce was that his mother couldn't take him to England-she had to stay in the United States, or she'd lose custody. When she got an offer to make a movie over there, she'd left him with his father and gone. During the making of the movie, she'd fallen in love with and married her costar-his stepfather, Ian Westcombe. Ian had no interest in living in California. "So, she chose her new husband over me," Blair said bitterly. "Don't get me wrong, I go over there a couple of times a year, and she comes over here to see me-but it still hurts sometimes, you know? And Dad-Dad is too busy being Steve Blanchard to really care about me very much. He somehow always managed to be out of the country filming or promoting a movie or something at Christmas. I actually see my mom more than I see him-and I live with him."

"That's terrible." I was appalled. I couldn't imagine not spending Christmas with my parents.

"Every year, I stupidly think things are going to be different, but they never are." He went on. "It's horrible to be alone at Christmas, you know? And everything on television is about families and the Christmas spirit. It just makes me want to slit my wrists." He sighed, "It gets to me, and I shouldn't let it, you know? That's why I called you, wanted you to come down. I hate being needy. You must think I'm the biggest dork ever."

That made me laugh. "Oh, Blair, you may be many things, but a dork? Hardly."

"Thanks for coming down," he said in a small voice.

I kissed the top of his head. "I love you, Blair. And thanks for telling me about it. You know you can tell me anything."

"I love you, Jeff." He kissed me. "You have no idea how glad I am you were daydreaming in class that day, and I decided to talk to you. You looked so cute that day. It was all I could do not to suck your dick right then and there."

"That would have been fun. You should have!"

We lay there while the sun went down, without talking, just holding each other. Around seven, though, Blair said, "We need to get in the shower. Blanca's expecting us at eight."

"Bianca?"

"I told you-Bianca del Marco has the house next doorthe auteur of gay porn? She's invited us over for cocktails at eight. And we can't be late."

The shower in Blair's bathroom was amazing. The stall was large enough for about five people to fit in comfortably, and there were three nozzles, so the hot streams of water came at you from three sides. We washed each other, soaping each other up and kissing from time to time. I knew every inch of Blair's body intimately by this point-after all, there wasn't a place on his body I'd never placed my mouth-but I never got tired of touching him. Both of us got hard while we were showering, but when I started to play with his cock, he just laughed and pushed me away. "Not now, we don't have time. But I do want you to fuck me in this shower while you're here." He grinned at me. "Ever since I got here, I'd come in here and beat off, pretending you were fucking me under the water. I think it would be so much hotter in here than in the showers back at the house, don't you think?"

"Hell yeah," I said, stepping under the water to wash the soap off my body.

"You done?" Blair asked, and when I nodded, he turned the water off. We toweled each other off, and got dressed.

At promptly eight o'clock we rang the doorbell of the house next door. The door opened, and my jaw dropped. An incredibly beautiful man wearing nothing more than a gold lame thong stood there, a big smile on his face. "Welcome to Casa del Marco," he said, kissing both of us on the cheek. "My name is Cody, and I'm here to serve you." His hair was buzzed in a military style, and one of those tribal-style tattoos circled his gigantic right bicep. His abs stood out like they'd been carved out of marble. Veins protruded from his huge muscles. And the front of the thong looked like he had-I gulped. His cock looked enormous.

Surely that couldn't be real?

Blair put his right hand directly in the center of Cody's chest, tracing down his torso with his index finger, stopping just above the top of the thong. "I'm Blair, and this is my boyfriend, Jeff."

"My pleasure," Cody replied. "Come in and join the party." He stood aside to let us pass, and it was all I could do to stop looking at him. We walked into the living room, and I couldn't take it all in. The room was crowded with beautiful young men, the music was playing loudly, and there were several other men, just as gorgeous as Cody, walking around serving drinks in the exact same thong. In a huge thronelike chair sat a huge woman who must have weighed at least three hundred pounds. She was wearing a purple dress, and her white-blond hair was teased into a gigantic bouffant that rose at least nine inches above her scalp. Her makeup was thick on her round face, and an Adam's apple showed prominently on her throat. Diamonds flashed on her fingers and dangled from her ears.

"Bianca darling!" Blair said, leaning down and kissing her large cheek. "Don't get up, dear. Thanks for the invitation."

"My pleasure." Her voice was deep and mannish. I realized with a start that Bianca was a man, I tried not to stare as she went on, "When are you going to stop being so prudish and be in one of my films?"

"Now, Bianca, you know I want to be a mainstream actor," Blair replied with a big grin, "and wonderful as your films are, it wouldn't do me any good."

"Stuff and nonsense," she replied, turning her gaze to me. A smile played over her lips, and one of her plucked eyebrows went up. "And who is this rather large and handsome boy?"

"Jeff Morgan," I said, leaning down so I wouldn't have to shout over the loud music and offering her my hand. "Blair's boyfriend."

She shook my hand. Her palm was moist and damp. "My pleasure-at least I hope so." She cackled. "Don't worry, darling, I don't bite. Unless of course you want me to? No?" She sighed. "Pity. Ah, well. You wouldn't be interested in appearing in one of my films, would you?"

"Are you serious?" I shook my head. I couldn't have heard that correctly. The music was awfully loud.

"Deadly serious. One of my performers overdosed, and had to cancel." She shook her head. Her hair didn't move. "I always say to the boys, if you can't handle your drugs, don't do them. But they never learn-they think they are indestructible." She looked at me. "Would you mind taking off your shirt for Mama?"

"Um-"

"DEVON!" she bellowed, and one of the thong-clad men came dashing over.

"Yes, Bianca?" he asked. He was naturally blond, and looked kind of like a surfer. He wasn't as muscular as Cody, but he had a beautifully shaped ass.

"Bring Mama and these two young beauties glasses of champagne, doll." He nodded and headed off to the kitchen area. "Now, don't be shy, dear. Off with your shirt!"

I looked over at Blair in a panic. He was grinning, and just nodded. I took a deep breath and pulled my T-shirt over my head. I stood there with my face turning red, holding my shirt.

Bianca whistled. "Absolutely lovely! Now, turn around." Again, Blair nodded, so I turned around slowly in a circle. She clapped her hands together in delight. Her nails were long and painted red. "Oh, Blair, where have you been hiding this one? What a lovely body! And that ass! Blair, he's a treasure." She didn't wait for him to answer as she rushed on, "Please, please help Mama out. I'll pay you fifteen hundred dollars for an afternoon's work. You can't beat that working anywhere else. All you have to do is fuck some pretty boys for the camera. Oh, you do have a big one, don't you?"

"Yes, he does," Blair said before I could say anything. My face felt hot. "And he shoots big loads, too."

I stared at him. What are you doing to me? I wanted to say, but then again ... fifteen hundred dollars was a lot of money. Bianca was right. It would take me months to make that kind of money-and Dad did say I was going to have to get a job at some point ... I could probably make fifteen hundred dollars stretch for an entire semester, if I was careful.

Devon came back with three glasses of champagne on a tray. He knelt down and Bianca took one. Blair and I took the others. I smiled my thanks at Devon, who winked and disappeared back into the crowd of people. Bianca held up her glass, and said, "To my newest star."

I looked over at Blair again. He just laughed. "Jeff, I would do it, really. There's nothing wrong with doing porn, you know"

I looked back at Bianca. I took a deep breath and leaned down and clinked my glass to hers. "I guess I'm hired then."

"Hurray! Be here tomorrow at noon." She downed her glass, and I followed suit. It was delicious; quite different than the champagne I'd chugged from the bottle at Initiation.

The rest of the party passed in a blur. I kept drinking champagne, and Bianca kept the two of us close to her. She introduced us to everyone, but after all the champagne, I was drunk and couldn't remember anyone's name. Around ten, Blair took me back to his dad's. I didn't want to leave yet, I was having a good time. But Blair insisted.

I was really drunk, and pouting. "Why did we leave? I wanted to stay."

He hadn't had as much to drink as I had, obviously. "Poor drunk little Jeffy. We left because the drugs were starting to come out. And I don't want you doing that."

"I can make my own decisions," I snapped.

"No, you can't-not when you're drunk. Now, don't get mad," he said hurriedly as I opened my mouth to snarl at him again. "First of all, you were all coked out when you slept with Marc, remember? And it wasn't coke they were going to be doing over there at Blanca's-it was crystal meth. And that's not something you want to get messed up with, my love." He sat down on my lap. "Besides, I wanted some alone time with you, is that such a bad thing?"

My anger drained out of me. "I love you, Blair. Let's go to bed."

The next morning I woke up around nine, my head aching. Did I really agree to be in a porn movie last night?

At noon, Blair and I rang Blanca's doorbell. This time, the door was opened by a hot little guy wearing a robe. He looked first at me, and then at Blair. "Which one of you is Jeff?"

Nervously, I swallowed. "Um, that would be me."

He looked at me, narrowing his eyes. "I'm Chad Revere. You're going to be fucking me today." He put his hands on his hips. "I guess you'll do. Just so you know, no tongues when we kiss, okay? I don't do that. I don't eat ass, either." He turned around and walked back into the house without another word.

I looked at Blair. "Great," I said, rolling my eyes. This is off to a great start.

Blair just laughed. "Don't be a diva on your first day on the set."

"Whatever." We walked inside. The curtains in the living room were pulled back, and there was a lot of activity around the pool. Bianca was out there, only today she was wearing a pale blue muumuu that made her look even huger than she was. She was wearing sunglasses and had a scarf wrapped around her head. A cigarette dangled from her lips. She was barking orders at a guy holding a camcorder. "That angle you shot was all wrong! We're not going to be able to use any of that footage! Nobody is going to pay money to see an entire fuck scene from the angle of the top's ass!"

"But, Bianca, he has a nice ass ..."

"They pay to see penetration!" She waved her cigarette tiredly. "Oh, just go away for now and get ready for the next shot." She turned and saw me and Blair standing in the doorway. "Jeff! Blair!" She waved us to come out and join her. When we did, she lowered her sunglasses and looked at me. "All right, Jeff, are you ready for your close-up?"

My stomach was in knots. "Um, I guess," I said, hearing the trembling in my voice.

"Everyone's nervous the first time, darling, don't worry about it. Mama is here to make you look incredible, not to make you look awful. Now, get undressed."

I hesitated.

"Darling, you might as well get used to being naked in front of people."

I took off my shirt and kicked off my sandals before stripping out of my shorts and underwear. Blair took them from me, and put them in the backpack he'd brought along. Bianca smiled. "Very nice. I like the tan line. People will think you're gay for pay, and that'll sell very nicely." She sighed. "Blair, I don't understand why men like the idea of straight guys having sex with gay boys, do you?"

He shrugged. "I don't get it."

"Ah, well, it's not up to us to figure out the neuroses of our buyers."

The next hour was spent getting lighting and angles right. Chad spent the whole time either smoking or yakking on his cell phone. Bianca gave me a Viagra-"No sense in trusting you to get it up on your own the first time-most guys are camera shy the first time"-and my cock was soon totally erect. While they were setting up the shot, I posed for still photographs.

I felt like a piece of meat.

But it was also kind of exciting.

The shot called for me to come rising out of the pool stark naked. I had no lines. All I had to do was climb out of the pool and towel off, and then Chad would come out of the house and just get on his knees and start blowing me.

The irony of the shot made me grin and look over at Blair, who was trying very hard not to laugh. We were mimicking the famous scene where his father came out of the water and became a superstar.

Although by the time we were finished with it, I had a lot more sympathy for Steve Blanchard than ever before. It took half an hour and multiple takes before Bianca had one she was pleased with.

The same with the blow job sequence, and when I started fucking Chad on the chaise lounge out there. Between takes, Chad would just chain smoke and talk on his phone. I didn't know what I was expecting from him, but it wasn't that. But once the camera was on, you'd never know he was so indifferent to me. With the camera rolling, you'd think he was madly in lust with me, couldn't get enough of my cock, and just wanted me to fuck him forever. He was really good, even though I knew he was probably planning out the rest of his weekend or something in his head.

Fortunately, we got my come shot in one take.

My screen debut took just over four hours to film.

It was hard work, but I'd loved every minute of it.

It was after six o'clock when we finally made it back over to Blair's. I had to fill out reams of paperwork, have my picture taken holding up my driver's license, and then finally, just when I thought I was going to be filling out forms for the rest of my life, Bianca wrote me a check. She handed it over to me with a big smile. "You did great, kid," she said. "I definitely will use you again. I think you're going to go over real big. Do we have your contact information?"

Considering that was all on the first form I'd filled out, I nodded.

"Terrific. We'll be in touch." She waved her hand in dismissal.

Blair opened a bottle of champagne when we got back over to his father's house, and poured us both a glass. "I'm just going to order pizza, is that okay with you?"

I nodded, sipping the champagne. I was exhausted, and all I wanted to do was lie down. My butt was a little tender from being exposed to the sun for the first time ever, and my lower back ached from fucking Chad for a few hours. "I can't believe I did that."

"It's a long way from Kansas, isn't it?" he said as he dialed the number for Pizza Hut.

"Yeah."

"You okay?" he asked after he'd placed the order and hung up the phone.

"Just tired ..."

He kissed me. "I love you."

"I love you, Blair."

But somehow, I felt like I'd changed somehow. Maybe I was just tired, but something inside of me was different. I couldn't put my finger on it, but I just felt wrong.

"I think I'm gonna take a nap," I said, standing up. "Wake me when the pizza gets here, okay?"