The Porn Shoot Ch. 04

My hand begins absentmindedly tugging at my dick through my shorts, my deprived length quickly rising to its full throbbing mast. I'm so ridiculously fucking horny. I start thinking about the girl I'd woken up next to, the one brief conscious glimpse I'd had of her naked body, but that doesn't work at all. A more potent image suddenly invades my mind.

I remember Kyle being right here on this couch, his smooth toned legs pressed against my hairy thighs as his tight ass greedily sank down on my whole eight inches, swallowing me up so effortlessly. I think of the way he'd passionately kissed me as our bodies were grinding together, as he vigorously rode me better than any chick ever had.

Tipsy and not desperate to prove something to myself, I recognize that I'm brutally hard at my own volition reliving that afternoon with him, pumping my dick even harder thinking about the way we'd fucked. And god damn it, there's no fucking Viagra to blame. Maybe it is all way more complicated than I've been trying to make it. I can't control what my fucking dick responds to! Who knows, maybe the novelty of fucking another guy is what made it so hot; maybe that will completely subside after I've done it a few times and the idea of seeking it out will go back to being unfathomable.

What the fuck is wrong with me? For a minute that idea takes hold again. Why is my dick so solid remembering banging another dude? But it is what it is. I liked fucking Kyle. I really, really liked fucking Kyle. Where did pretending I didn't enjoy it get me? Blackout drunk, $300 in debt, some rightfully pissed off woman telling me to go fuck myself. Shit, what's good about any of that? Nothing!

Why do I keep thinking he's so pretty? I can't get him out of my head. He was so nice to me, so genuine, and I treated him like shit even though I'm the one who pursued him! Well, what else is new? That seems to be the way I always operate, female and apparently male too. What the fuck is wrong with me? Shit, it seems to be me. I'm a fucking asshole. Why do I act like this with other people? I can't even explain it to myself. Apparently I need some fucking counseling.

I know I have his phone number still sitting crumpled up in my trash and the temptation steadily grows to dig it out. As soon as Mitch recounted his friend saying that I'd ranted about some girl who was the best sex of my life, I knew I must have been talking about Kyle. Who else could it be? And if alcohol is truth serum, that was the fucking truth when I declared it to some stranger blackout drunk. I threw Kyle away and mourned the decision within hours because I have some obnoxious hang-ups about who I want to be and what I'm "supposed" to like.

Fuck it. I have to call him. I jump off my couch, wandering to the trash can and staring down into the contents. There's only one crumpled up piece of paper there, right on the surface. I pluck it out and unfold it.

Kyle, his phone number scribbled across the little page, an offer to reach out. I sigh plugging the digits into my phone, pressing call without giving myself a chance to hesitate. Thank god he doesn't know who's calling because he'd probably just decline it if he did.

The line keeps ringing and I suddenly realize it's probably way too late to be calling someone on a Sunday. What the fuck am I doing? I should just hang up.

"Hello?" he finally answers.

Shit, I was seconds away from hitting voicemail and thought I was in the clear. "Uh, hey," I say awkwardly, starting to pace around my kitchen.

"Who is this?" Kyle demands.

"Jamie."

"You know it's like 3:00 in the morning, right?" he says after a few seconds of silence, sounding slightly pissed.

I shouldn't have fucking called him. "Shit, I just got off work. Sorry if I woke you up."

Kyle laughs. "No, I'm at a party. Hold on."

I can't hear the telltale signs of a party in the background, but at least he's awake.

"Alright, I'm outside now," he says.

"Sorry if I woke you up," I repeat.

"I just said I'm at a party. Are you drunk right now?"

"Well, yeah, a little," I admit.

"So why are you calling me drunk at 3:00 in the morning?" Kyle asks like he thinks this is just a booty call.

I don't know what the fuck to say. "Uh, I just, um--I don't know."

"You were a dick, Jamie. I'm not going to roll over every time you feel like admitting you want my ass."

I can't read him at all right now. He seems to be all over the place. "I'm really sorry," I whisper into my phone. "Seriously."

Kyle scoffs. "Yeah, you're sorry until you cum in my ass again. And then you'll go back to being an asshole, right?"

What the fuck am I supposed to say? I can't even form words.

"We should have kept this professional from the beginning," he mumbles. "I've let his happen before--you know, there's a reason Bob doesn't want us talking. We never should have met up off set."

Fuck. I threw his number in the garbage and now I feel like he's throwing me there too. Why am I even calling him? What the fuck am I trying to do? I already burned the bridge.

"You there?" Kyle asks, frustration evident in his voice.

"Sorry," I mutter, covering my eyes with my hand like I'm not seeing him in my mind.

"I mean, I know there must be something going on if you're calling me at least. Right?"

"Yeah," I agree. "There's definitely something going on." I wander back to my couch, splaying out and settling down.

"I know," Kyle says a little more sympathetically. "But I've been down this road before, you know? Do you have any idea what it's like when a guy throws you out and makes you feel that way?"

I think of the way I'd treated him the evening after our shoot, the way I'd treated the unfortunate girl whose name I still don't even know the morning after; I think of all the women I've treated that way, like objects, like convenient means to an end. I have no idea what it feels like. I always get rid of other people before they have the chance to get rid of me.

"You're there, right?"

"Yeah," I answer. "Sorry. I've been thinking about stuff like that. I've been thinking about a lot of stuff. I don't know why I do it." I pause for a second, instantly recognizing that isn't the truth at all. "I don't even like myself, man. Honestly. I don't like myself at all. I never give anyone the chance to realize they don't like me either."

"Well," Kyle starts, letting the word hang for awhile. "I thought you were a really cool guy, honestly. I mean...obviously. I've only hung out with a few of the guys I did a scene with."

"I really am sorry for being a dick," I say as sincerely as I can. "I'm so fucking tired of being a dick. Really."

"Thanks, Jamie. Hey..."

There's silence on the other end for a few seconds. "Yeah?"

"Do you want to talk about all this stuff in person maybe?" Kyle asks.

In an instant my dick is rock hard. "In person?"

"Well, I'm literally three blocks away from your place right now," he says, his voice slightly hesitant. "Or maybe we should do that when we're both sober?"

"I'm better at telling the truth when I'm not," I quip.

Kyle laughs. "We would just be talking, though. That's all."

I close my eyes and start stroking my dick through my gym shorts imagining his pretty face, his smooth tanned skin, his beautiful pink hole. "If you don't come on to me I won't come on to you."

"Are you saying you want to come on to me again?"

"Dude, so fucking badly," I admit, grasping my shaft and opening my eyes to see a huge spot of precum soaked through the fabric of my shorts.

"Then we definitely need to talk about that," Kyle says insistently. "Let me tell my friends I'm leaving and I'll head your way."

A massive grin spreads across my face. "Sounds good, man. Tell me when you're here and I'll buzz you in."

"Ok, see you in like five minutes. Bye."

The call ends, and for a regretful second I feel like I just made a huge mistake inviting him over. What the fuck is wrong with me? I'm not gay! But my cock is so insanely hard thinking about Kyle. Fuck it. Fuck it! Sex is just sex! If I'm going to do more scenes for Bob, if other guys are going to turn me on the way Kyle had, I have to confront that maybe I'm not 100% straight. And who fucking cares? I just want to be happy. I pull my dick out and stroke like a madman remembering the way I'd fucked Kyle on this couch, letting myself admit that I'd enjoyed it. The minutes tick by and then he texts that he's here. After a couple more minutes, I hear a soft knock at my door, jumping up to let him in.

"Hey," Kyle greets, sounding a little tipsy himself, a huge smile on his face like he's really happy to be seeing me again.

He's so fucking pretty. He's wearing a gray t-shirt and jeans, his blond hair styled exactly the same way it was for the shoot. I smirk at him, his blue eyes meeting mine. "Glad you could make it." How the fuck am I supposed to repress my urges?

Kyle's gaze quickly shoots to the rigid shaft that's obvious in my gym shorts, and he stares lustfully for a few seconds before looking back up at my face. "What have you been doing?" he asks even though he already knows the answer.

"Thinking about you," I say. I'm not even trying to be flirty, but I can't help myself. All I want to do right now is grab him and shove my tongue down his throat again. Who the fuck cares what it means? Fuck it! Sex is just sex!

Kyle laughs, his bright blue eyes lighting up. "So...should we sit down and talk?"

I motion to the couch. "Yeah, have a seat!"

We both sit down, positioning ourselves closer than we probably should, the sexual tension almost explosive. I have no idea what I'm supposed to say. Should I be apologizing to him again for acting like an asshole? Kyle doesn't say anything either, just wearing that same sheepish smile he'd borne in this exact same spot the day before. "You know, this was your idea, man," I finally prompt him, playfully tapping his shoulder because I'm desperate to touch him.

He jolts at the momentary contact and laughs again, looking into my eyes. "You're making it really, really hard to stick to what I said on the phone."

I know he wants me too. Fuck it. I grab Kyle's hand, locking our fingers together tightly. "Are you sure you want to stick to it?"

He hesitates for a moment. "Well, I know what I want," he whispers, squeezing my hand. "Are you sure you do?"

I let Kyle go and reach my hand around his head, pulling his smooth face toward mine, our lips meeting in one tender kiss. Sharing that with him again right now, I know I need more. I want to spend the whole fucking night kissing him. "Feel how hard my dick is right now," I whisper, our mouths just an inch apart, my breath against his skin.

Kyle grasps the thick eight inches through my shorts, moaning softly into me as he starts to stroke my length.

"Definitely not the Viagra this time," I murmur. "Must just be you."

He moans again as he plunges his tongue into my mouth, our hands all over each other as we begin ravenously making out. When Kyle pulls away, he rips my Sports tank top off, yanking his shirt off too as he climbs on top of me, his legs pressed against my thighs. Our mouths collide together again like we've both been lusting to experience this moment for so much longer than just a single day, our tongues forcefully struggling to press even deeper inside each other.

"This is so fucking hot," I pant when Kyle finally comes up for air. Who gives a fuck about labels when being with someone feels like this? Fuck it! At least I'll fucking remember this!

He grins, his whole face flushed and transfixed with lust. "You're so fucking hot," he whispers, starting to grind his butt into my dick through our clothes.

I smile too, gripping Kyle's ass with my hands and pulling him into my crotch as he moves up and down. "You want that big dick again?" I ask, my voice low, authoritative, hungry. My balls are so fucking full.

"You know I do," he says eagerly, the intense desire obvious in his eyes.

"Then take the rest of my clothes off," I command with a cocky smirk.

Kyle leaps out of my lap, hooking his fingers underneath either side of the waistband and urgently yanking my shorts and boxers down in one fell swoop. My rock hard dick is sticking straight up, the head already slick with the precum that had been steadily dribbling out. He looks in awe at it from in between my legs, like it's just as mesmerizing as it was every other time he'd seen it, wrapping his slender hand around my warm, pulsing shaft. He nuzzles his face against my sack, breathing deeply as his tongue probes my balls. "I can tell you just got off work," Kyle says when he pulls away. "You smell so fucking manly right now."

I grin knowing that he likes my scent, and when Kyle starts to press his mouth toward my dick, I hold a single finger up above it. "Not yet!" I tease him, desperate to see his smooth ass again. "You need to lose those clothes first."

He rises up in front of me, his little pecs and ridiculously chiseled abs already on display, slowly and seductively unbuttoning his jeans.

I grip my thick shaft and start stroking as I watch him gingerly slide the pants down his hairless thighs, revealing a low-waisted white pair of Calvin Klein briefs that contrast beautifully with his deeply tanned skin. "Nice," I hiss, pumping my dick harder. "Now turn around and peel them off."

When Kyle changes positions, he squats down in my lap, rubbing my dick against the white fabric concealing his ass cheeks. He slowly slides the briefs down, exposing the two hairless globes I'd grown obsessed with at Bob's mansion, the head of my cock sliding against his crack.

This feels so fucking good. This feels right. Who the fuck cares? I grab his beautiful butt with both my hands, digging my fingers into his supple skin, guiding his ass up and down my length. "Dude, fuck the blowjob," I mutter.

Kyle twists his head back looking worried, probably nervous that I've suddenly changed my mind about what we're doing, but that definitely isn't true. His ass is so fucking sexy that I need to have it right fucking now.

I wrap my hands around Kyle's waist and kiss up his back to reassure him, forcing him upright again as I stand up behind him, slapping his stunning butt a few times with my thick 8 inches. He'd mentioned that doggy is his favorite position, so I turn him around, pushing him down on the couch so that his arms are up on top of the cushions, his feet dangling off.

He arches his back, pointing his ass up toward me, the perfectly smooth mounds spreading to expose his tight pink hole.

Drinking in that magnificent sight, I'm desperate to taste him again, dropping down to my knees and pushing my face between his smooth cheeks. I start lapping my tongue against his silky slit, eagerly massaging it as I listen to his moans of pleasure.

"Fuck yeah," Kyle murmurs from the cushion. "Get that pussy nice and wet for your big fucking dick."

That word triggers me again, my dick growing even harder than it is. I'm already throbbing, my balls so full and desperate for relief, but that word makes my length even more rigid, even more determined to destroy Kyle's tight butt. He doesn't have an asshole, just a sweet pink gash of a pussy that exists to be filled up by men. I lick more forcefully, using my hands to spread Kyle's cheeks even wider as he moans more enthusiastically. I drive my tongue into the tight ring, trying to push my way inside him, wishing he was still leaking my seed like he was the day before.

"Fuck me!" Kyle begs after a couple of minutes, his face desperately turning back, the hunger obvious in his blue eyes. "I need to feel your dick inside me again right now!"

I want to eat him out all night, to keep tasting that sweet hairless pussy between his legs, but I'm aching to be inside Kyle just as much as he's pleading for it. "You're ready for this dick?" I ask, standing up and slapping it against his pink slit.

"Yeah!" he answers. "Give me that fucking dick!"

I spit on my cock a few times, rubbing the saliva all over my shaft, grabbing one of Kyle's hips while my other hand guides my rigid length into his slick, warm opening.

"Shit!" Kyle yells the second I finally press inside him, his ass quickly darting away from me. "It's too much! You're so fucking huge!"

I'd totally forgotten the way I'd slowly warmed him up when we first fucked. "Sorry," I whisper, suddenly nervous that I'd hurt him.

Kyle's head turns to look at me again, his pleading eyes finding mine. "I can do it. Just give me a few fingers first. I can fucking take it."

I get back on my knees right in front of Kyle's smooth butt, still marveling at how perfectly pink his hole is and stealing another lick, pushing my tongue slightly further than I'd been able to manage before.

"Oh fuck," he moans. "Get my pussy so fucking wet for you. Loosen me up so I can take that whole massive cock."

God fucking damn he's so hot. I spit into his sweet pink slit again, drawing my face back and rubbing a finger against his slick hole, gradually pressing it inside him. Kyle gasps like it's my whole dick, but after a few seconds I easily slide a second finger in too.

"Yeah!" he groans. "Stretch me out. Get me ready. I want you to fucking fill me up, Jamie!"

Hearing him say my name turns me on so much. I slap his ass with my free hand. "You need this big dick destroying your ass, don't you?"

"Fuck yes!" he whimpers. "Fucking destroy my ass!"

Straight, gay, bi, who the fuck cares? I'm so turned on I can barely resist stuffing my whole length inside of Kyle right fucking now. I shove a third finger in and he groans loudly, but his ass easily accommodates it. He's ready to take my cock. I withdraw my fingers, standing up again and positioning my thick shaft against Kyle's hairless hole.

"Yeah," he encourages, his voice desperate. "Give it to me!"

I press the head of my dick into Kyle's butt again, his insides easily giving way this time, spreading open for my eight inches. He feels tighter than he's ever felt, like his hole has totally reverted to its natural state after a day without penetration.

"Fuck!" he yells deliriously when I'm just halfway in. "Fuck yeah! Fucking take it! Fuck me! Use me!"

"Fucking slut," I grunt as I slide the rest of my length inside of him, the last inches effortlessly disappearing until my pubes are resting against Kyle's butt.

He moans and groans and swears adjusting to my massive length bottomed out inside of him again, his hole cradling my dick. "Your fucking slut," he finally says urgently.

"You want to be my slut?" I challenge, totally lost in the pleasure of the moment as I start thrusting my length in and out of his ass. "Your pussy should be able to take this big dick with no warm up at all."

"Fucking train me!" Kyle begs, his blue eyes wild when his head twists back. "Make me take this big fucking dick all the time!"

Shit! He's such a fucking slut! I'm so turned on I have to pause my assault, waiting a few seconds before I start sawing in and out of his hairless globes again. His ass is clenching down on my shaft, gripping me so tightly as I barrel in and out of him. I know Kyle must be jerking off. He's fucking enjoying this as much as I am. "Going to shoot your load when I fucking breed you again?" I ask, drops of sweat dripping off my forehead and landing on his back.

"Yeah!" he yells between ecstatic moans. "You feel so fucking good!"

"Fuck, man," I grunt, his tight ass squeezing my dick hard again. "Shit. Fuck." I keep pummeling his butt, viciously slamming my eight inches in and out of him. "Your fucking pussy is going to suck the cum out of me."

"Yeah?" Kyle whimpers back, his hole gripping harder than it had all night. "You going to fill that pussy up?"