Big Sky Country Ch. 04

The secrecy was that his box office appeal was on being a leading man for big-name actresses in A-level movies. Knowing he was gay would collapse one whole side of a major Hollywood studio.

"Just relax and let me take care of everything," he had said, "we have all night." And when Gabe had given in to that, all had gone smoothly and Gabe's needs had all been taken care of--repeatedly, through the night. This was not a quickie fuck, and Jones knew exactly what to do with a young submissive.

Jones's cock wasn't noticeably long, although it filled out nicely when hard and remained hard until it had exhausted Gabriel. He may have been on some sort of enhancement drug to maintain his erection. The shaft was thick, and Jones knew what to do with it to make Gabriel pant and moan and beg for more of it. His balls were plump and full of cum, which he slowly doled out to Gabriel all night on the big bed in a bedroom outfitted like a scarlet-decorated Victorian bordello.

He worked Gabriel's body for three-quarters of an hour before fucking him, fondling the young man to a heavy pant, kissing and tonguing him everywhere, and getting four fingers inside him and working his prostate until with a groan and a cry for mercy Gabriel released his cum and rolled over onto his belly in exhaustion. Then and only then did Jones cover the younger man's body closely from above, grasp Gabriel's wrists with his hands, bury his face in the hollow of the young man's throat, enter him slowly and deeply, and slow-pump him to an ejaculation, to Gabe's gasps and their mutual groans and moans. When Jones came the first time, both men were lying perfectly still except for rise and fall of Jones's hips and the almost imperceptible rise of Gabriel's pelvis to meet the slow thrusts.

Jones took him a second time in a missionary and a third time in a side split, and before the light of dawn began to filter through the cracks in the scarlet velvet draperies on the tall windows, Gabriel coaxed the older man onto his back and slowly rode his cock in a cowboy, ending with Jones pulling him back onto his torso, trapping his arms in a full nelson, weaving his legs through Gabriel's, and fucking up into his ass, ending in yet another prodigious coming by the actor and Gabriel splashing his cum up onto his belly. As far as Gabriel could figure out, the actor remained in erection the entire time.

They went to sleep like that, with Gabe lying on top of Jones's stretched-out body and Jones's at last flaccid cock inside Gabe's channel.

The sun had breached the horizon when they both woke to pounding on the front door downstairs and to the sound of Sterling Fisher going down to answer the door.

When he came upstairs, he tapped on the bedroom door and opened it before either Jones or Gabriel could answer. He, of course, saw the two men plastered together on top of sheets that were all entangled, but he gave this no reaction. It wasn't anything less than he expected to find.

"There's a reason Collin didn't come to the party last night," he said, his voice flat and ominous. "On the way into Lubbock yesterday, he rammed a telephone pole head on with his motorcycle and killed himself."

Gabriel gave a sob, rolled off Jones's body, and sat on the side of the bed, his body sunk in on itself.

"I guess it's good that his last scene was shot yesterday," Fisher added. "Someone can be found looking close enough to be his son in the later scenes."

Gabriel sobbed again and hiccupped. Jones hissed a, "That's enough of that, Sterling," to Fisher, who shrugged, withdrew, and closed the door behind him.

Jones rolled over to the side of the bed and came in close behind Gabriel, encasing the young man's thighs between his and embracing Gabriel's torso in his arms. He kissed the shocked young man on the neck and shoulders and rocked him back and forth.

"Go ahead, let it out," he whispered, and Gabriel did so for a few minutes.

When the shudders and sobs subsided a bit, Jones whispered, in his best calming stage voice, "It's terrible that Collin is gone. But he went doing what he wanted--riding with the wind on his motorcycle. He's gone, but you are here and so am I. You are young and supple, at the height of your desirability. You have so much to live for and so much more to enjoy in life. I want you to come to Hollywood with me. We'll take Collin back and put him to rest in Forest Lawn. I will be good to you. We'll have to keep it quiet, but I've managed that before. I want to be good to you. I want to be good to you now. Grasp life. Let me have you again. Now. It will comfort you to affirm life like this. Move up and come down on me--take me inside you. I will be good to you." He was a consummate actor. He knew just how to pitch his voice in a soothing, encouraging tone.

With a stifled sob, Gabriel rose enough on his feet, planted on the floor, to let Jones put his erect cock, which had engorged while they'd been rocking their bodies against each other, in position. With a sigh Gabriel descended on the cock and then, with Jones embracing him from behind, he turned his head for their faces to meet in a kiss and began to rise and fall on the buried shaft.

Jay Jones cooed in soft tones to the young man and stroked the curves of his body as he fucked him again. Jones was getting what he wanted from the young man, and Gabriel, young, naïve, and awed at coupling with a famous actor, submitted fully to him.

* * * *

The next afternoon, after Collin Chisholm's coffin had been loaded onto the production's Douglas DC-5 aircraft at the Lubbock airport and they'd taken off, Gabriel sat at a window and looked down at the out-of-place Victorian mansion on the Brighton Ranch, as the aircraft circled to head West.

"How long will we be in Hollywood before we come back here?" he turned and asked Jay Jones, who was sitting in the aisle seat on the other side of the plane and looking over a script.

"Oh, we won't be back for months," Jones said. "They have to modernize the house, paint it all up, and add gardens and a pool for the latter years section of the movie. It's what the ranch gets done to let us film there. That will take months."

"Months? We'll be gone for months? Not just a week or so to get Collin buried?"

"No. Months. We have scenes we can shoot at Studio City, and I'm in discussions on a movie down in Mexico I could get started on. If that doesn't pan out, there is plenty of publicity work to do. Don't worry. You'll be with me. I'll take very good care of you. The studio will sign you on as a production assistant and you'll be paid through them. We'll be careful about this."

Gabriel turned back to the window and looked down to see if he could pick out Frank Doyle's Sunshine Ranch. He hadn't had time to tell Frank he was going back to Hollywood with Collin's body to see him buried. He felt someone slip into the aisle seat beside him and turned to see a dark-haired man of thirty-five or so. Not bad looking but a little on the pudgy side. He remembered having seen him at the ranch but didn't know what his job was on the movie.

Jay Jones told him. "This is Sam Lutz, Gabe. He's an assistant producer on the picture. Keeps track of the filming schedules."

Then he told Gabriel why Sam Lutz was smiling at him. "He asked about you. Heard you gave twenty-five-dollar blow jobs. I figured you could use the money. You can do it right there, or if you'd like more privacy, I think the last row in the cabin is free." Then he turned his attention back to reading the script in his lap.

It went beyond a blow job. Eventually, Gabriel's bare legs were raised, spread, and waving out over the top of the row of seats in front of him, with Lutz crouched between them, fucking Gabriel. No one on the plane seemed to notice, or, if they did, to care. It did take much for Gabriel to be clear what function he was to perform in the film production entourage.