The Porn Star and the Prostitute

But eventually, his sheer skill won me over. I pumped his mouth full, gasping in surprise when he swallowed it all. I hadn't expected that since porn stars were expected to do facials about 90 percent of the time, so I thought he'd sort of habitually pull off and let me cum all over his face and chest. But DAMN! He made my toes curl!

Purring blissfully, I took a small break to enjoy the moment before turning to work on him more directly. Which means that I insisted that he get comfortable on the bed, got myself comfortable, and then poured every ounce of concentration into my task. His breathing got rough and ragged, which made me far happier than it probably should have.

Even though his legs were vibrating slightly and his breathing was heavy, I got a little self conscious because he wasn't really making any noise. "Is something wrong?" I asked before I could drive myself crazy wondering.

"No!" He gasped out, petting my head reassuringly.

I narrowed my eyes and looked at him. "Yes there is. What is it?"

He gave me a look that told me he didn't appreciate having to talk about it. "Alright, fine. I'm having a weird moment where I'm not sure if I should be making all the same sounds I would be if I was acting, because if I do, will you think I'm just acting? And also, I really want to yank on your hair and be a little rough with you, but you probably have a lot of clients do that and you already said that you just wanted to have normal sex."

I sighed in relief. "Oh! God I thought it was more along the lines of the fact that every movie starts with about 10 to 20 minutes of blowjobs by professionals, and so maybe you're a little numb to them by this point."

He laughed. "Now we're BOTH overthinking this!"

I pulled him into a C shape so that I could give him a kiss. "To answer your questions, I don't mind if you pull on my hair. It's all part of the fun. My pleasure IS your pleasure, so knowing that you're enjoying yourself makes it all the better for me. Therefore, while I don't want you to act -- please just tell me if it's not doing it for you -- I actually do want you to make whatever sounds you want. And if you really don't want to, just tell me that. I'll understand."

He smiled and kissed me before relaxing back onto the pillows. "Just keep on doing what you're doing. Actually, I can tell you've done it a lot since you're really good at it. Just try to be patient with me because -- as you said -- I've had it done a lot and it IS a little hard to convince the part of me that's been trained to keep on going for hours that I can end things a little quicker than usual."

Smiling at him, I gave him a flirty wink. "I can certainly do that!"

This time as I gave him my all, he grabbed my hair and helped out by thrusting a little. To my delight, his legs started quivering again fairly quickly. Also, he didn't make a lot of noise, but the little ones he made were all encouraging. All in all, I was actually having a lot of fun.

Best of all, even though it did take him quite a while, when he finally came, I was able to return the favor of swallowing to the melodic sounds of him crying obscenely. One might even call it... pornographically, hahaha!

Grinning, I kissed my way up his abdomen and chest, and then kissed him tenderly before snuggling up with him. His hand was absently stroking my arm and he sounded like he was a little out of it. Then he sighed happily and shifted us both so that we could go to sleep.

The next morning, we had breakfast and went for our run as usual, but then we skipped our other activities so that we could return to our villa and have a quick talk.

"So..." Dylan began as I was refilling my water bottle for a drink. "Are you still interested in having more sex with me?"

"Of course I am!" I blurted out, a little incredulous that he had to ask.

"Alright, so, here's what I think. I think that we should take turns showering and performing body prep," he suggested.

"Wait, I didn't bring my enema kit with me," I pointed out. "I wasn't exactly thinking that I'd need it."

"I brought mine out of sheer habit, I suppose," he said. "I don't mind if you use it too. But as I was saying, I think we should do this part separately to preserve some of the romance of the situation. But then when we're ready, we'll actually have a lot of options available to us."

I tilted my head as I looked at him. "You once said that just because you bottom in your movies, it doesn't mean that you would if we ever had sex," I reminded him.

He shrugged. "And I meant that at the time, but now... We're going into this as equals. From what I gather, we've both done both and don't really have a preference. So, once again, let's just prepare for anything and see what happens?"

I smiled at him. "I can live with that."

Unexpectedly, he pulled me into him and gave me a lengthy kiss. It wasn't hot and passionate, intended to start things here and now, but rather lazy and sensual. When he pulled back, it was to press a tiny kiss to the tip of my nose.

"You want to shower first, or should I?" He asked.

"You can," I said, nudging him toward the bathroom.

This was solely so that I wouldn't be the one all ready to go and have to wait for him. If I was, I'd drive myself crazy thinking about what to do while he was in the shower. This way, I could just get out of the shower and jump right into bed with him.

"Alright, but wait a second," he insisted. "I think we should have a quick talk about condoms. Because our company insists on regular testing for all of us and birth control for the actresses, we actually don't use condoms, so I don't even own any."

"Dylan, I didn't exactly think I'd need any either," I reminded him. "And since I ALSO get tested regularly and am clean, I will leave that up to you to decide. Do you want me to go buy some while you're in the shower?"

He shook his head. "While I do actually worry about you catching something from one of your clients, if you say you're clean, then I'll trust you."

I laughed. "I'm not just saying it. My last test was a week before we came here. I'll show you." I grabbed my bag off the counter and quickly located the most recent test results.

He looked it over with an amused grin. "This makes me feel better. Give me a minute and I'll show you mine."

"Mmm!" I purred lecherously as I looked him up and down.

He laughed and grabbed his wallet out of his back pocket so that he could pull out his most recent results. His was dated the day before we left. I smiled as I handed it back.

"We're both clean. I think we're okay without condoms."

Nodding in agreement, he gave me a quick smooch before running off to the bathroom. I bit my lip and wondered what it would be like to be normal. Normal couples didn't have to go through all this preparation and hassle just to have sex. They could do it spontaneously and without having to think about it. Although, to be fair, we are both men. Even normal gay couples DO have to worry about adequate preparation and body care. Maybe I'm just overthinking it again.

Well, since I'm overthinking things anyway, maybe I should come up with a plan. After all, he may have a lot of sex, but it all follows a sort of basic formula. Warm up with a long blowjob, maybe give the woman some oral, switch to fucking and keep on switching partners and positions until there's enough footage for an hour and a half. What can I do to be different?

Actually... when I really think about it, I probably have more experience with kink than he does. My clients offer me a nice variety. I have everything from gentle sex to hardcore BDSM. This mini mental challenge kept me occupied all through my shower, until I finally had a good answer.

After drying off a bit, I exited the bathroom to find him sprawled out on the bed with his hands behind his head. Naked, mmm... I would have thought he'd fallen asleep if not for the fact that his thoughts were apparently interesting enough to have him fully erect and pointing at the ceiling near the wall above his head. Grinning, I climbed into bed and kissed my way up his body from his toes to his neck. When he grabbed me by the back of my neck and kissed me possessively, I moaned and let him for three or four heartbeats before shaking my head and pulling away.

Something I DID actually have on hand in case I felt like masturbating, was a bottle of high quality massage oil. I grabbed it out of the drawer in the table next to my side of the bed. Then I poured some in my hands and warmed it up before spreading it on him.

See, the conclusion I'd come to was that he probably had almost no experience with the romance aspect of sex. Also, he'd actually mentioned trying to preserve the romance a bit. So... this.

I wasn't trained in it, but I'd like to think based on his soft moans of enjoyment that I was doing a nice job. I massaged his chest, shoulders, and abdomen -- nearly in heaven at not just the visual of his fantastic body, but also the tactile delight of touching him everywhere.

Rather than move onto his legs, I had him turn over so that I could focus on his back for a while. When I reached his absolutely gorgeous ass, I wiped my hands off on a hand towel and physically positioned him over a stack of pillows so that I had a good angle to comfortably worship his ass for hours. To my surprise, he very quickly devolved into a quivering begging mess.

"Please!"

I pulled my tongue out of him and replaced it with my fingers. "Please what?"

He took a deep breath in order to calm down a little. "If your goal is to get me ready for you, I'm ready! Please stop teasing me and get to it!"

I laughed and it sounded a bit evil for some reason. "Actually, my goal is NOT to just get you ready, but to pleasure you as much as possible." And with that, I had my tongue join my fingers in my quest to stimulate his prostate -- maybe even to orgasm. To my delight, he was crying and babbling into the bed, and even clutching the sheets with both hands.

Encouraged, I could keep this up all day. Eventually, his begging was cut short by a sharp gasp. "Oh God! I'm gonna cum and I didn't think that was possible like this!" And then there was a full body shudder that triggered a loud squeal into the bedding, that was quickly muffled just a little as he attempted to shove the bedding in his mouth. I gentled my touch and only kept up the stimulation until his cries changed tone from astonishment to a little overwhelmed.

Not touching him in any way, I gave him a moment to process his orgasm. Well, I couldn't stop myself from caressing his ass and even kissing it once or twice, but I wasn't actively trying to get him off again. When he sounded calmer, I handed him a drink of water (I'd thought ahead while he was in the shower).

"Now, what would you like next?" I asked with a smirk.

He shifted to look me in the eye even as he was still draped over the pillows. "I have no complaints -- BELIEVE ME, I'm not complaining! But I can't help but wonder if you're in prostitute mode, trying to give me what I need as a client."

I bit my lip in thought. "Maybe I am, a little bit. But I told you that your pleasure IS my pleasure. I'm NOT focusing on your needs over my own because that's what I get paid to do. I'm actually indulging myself in all the things I like to do. Fulfilling my kinks to pamper and worship and touch. And pleasure."

He nodded in acceptance. "Alright then, what I actually want most at the moment is to feel you inside me. Once I truly thought about it, I realized that I've been dying for it for the longest time. And I'll warn you now that if we're indulging ourselves in what we each want, then what I want most -- later, after I've recovered -- is to fuck you for HOURS! So... you're probably going to be sore tomorrow."

I smirked at him. "I look forward to it!" Still smiling, I kissed a path up his spine, across his cheek, and over to his lips. Then I straightened up and used more massage oil to properly lubricate him, lubricate myself, and mentally prepare myself.

This inexplicably felt like a pretty big step. I mean... we were already lovers in every way but physically. We lived together and slept in the same bed -- naked. We shared all aspects of our lives with each other and were completely honest. I trusted him more than anybody and was suddenly nervous that this might change things between us. RUIN things!

Dylan sighed. "Stop overthinking again and just get on with it!"

I chuckled wryly, half happy and half annoyed that he knew me so well. Pushing into him, I was surprised to feel so... good! It was a feeling I was determined to experience fully, experimenting with both speed and power until I found the one that felt the best. Mmm...

I think I could lose myself in him.

Unlike him, I wasn't usually expected to last a long time. In fact, sometimes I wasn't even expected to get off at all and the experience ended when the client achieved orgasm. This meant I had stamina (or maybe patience) when it came to using my hands and mouth, but not so much when it came to the actual fucking portion. Thus, it didn't take me long at all -- 20 minutes if I was damn lucky -- before I was pumping him full.

I sighed in bliss as I melted onto the bed next to him. A tiny part of my mind neurotically became obsessed with if he was disappointed that I couldn't last as long as his co-stars. I actually rolled over and hugged a pillow to me because I was almost panicking now.

He moaned happily and cuddled up to my back, pressing kisses to my neck and shoulder. "You know, maybe everyone is right. Maybe we SHOULD get married."

I felt like my mind exploded even as a laugh exploded from my mouth. "We have sex ONE time and you want to get married?!?!"

He pressed his lips to my shoulder for a moment before sighing. "I think... maybe we already are." Then he forced me to roll over so that I was under him and he could look me in the eyes. "Look, it has nothing to do with the sex. And actually, as utterly fantastic as this is, I sort of like the fact that we don't need to have sex to have a full relationship. We call ourselves life-partners because on some level, we both decided to be in this for life. So why not get married?"

It was my turn to sigh. "How would that even work? We both have jobs that we love and don't plan to give up anytime soon."

Dylan shrugged. "I think it would work exactly the way it has been. We've built a life together that is fun and rich and accepts the fact that we're both sex workers in different ways. The only real change I think we should make is to commit to taking a week off every other month -- or maybe two weeks off every 4-6 months -- so that we can do what we're doing here; exploring the world and spending time together."

"And it really wouldn't bother you to be married to an active whore?" I questioned, being crude specifically because it was the crude attitude of others that he'd have to deal with if he married me.

"Prostitute," he corrected with a cute smirk, then kissed the tip of my nose. "And why would it bother me? You said it yourself, we both have jobs we love, and neither of us plan to give them up any time soon. And if you really want to compare reasons to be bothered, I've definitely had sex -- directly and indirectly -- with a LOT more people than you have. As far as I can tell since the majority of your clients are regulars. Or are you saying that being married to a porn star would bother YOU?"

I had to think this over. Honestly, it had never bothered me before and I couldn't see it starting now. I shook my head. "No... When I think about it, I get turned on. Take that girl the other day, for example. I didn't feel upset or jealous in the slightest even though she was interrupting our time together. I simply watched you tease the fuck out of her and..." I laughed. "And I actually wondered what it would be like if you granted her wish for a good fuck right there in front of me. My very own private porno to watch!"

He frowned at me suspiciously. "You say that, but if it really doesn't bother you, then WHY haven't you ever watched any of my videos?"

I gave him a look that said: DUH! "If I did that, I'd be all over you!"

This made him smirk rather smugly. "Speaking of, I think it's my turn to be all over you!"

Surrendering to his touch, I purred as he kissed me everywhere. He clearly wasn't planning to take as long as I had, but he still opted NOT to skip straight to the end. With me on my back, it was a good thing I was flexible. He pushed my legs up until my knees were near my ears, and then licked my pucker until I was crying obscenely and begging him to get on with it -- ironically enough.

Also rather ironic, I was a little torn between being happy that he listened to me, and bummed that he hadn't insisted on torturing me until I had two or three orgasms. Fortunately, my mind soon went utterly blank as he rammed me into the bed for hours. Sometimes it was fast. Sometimes it was slower and more gentle. But it was ALWAYS powerful! It quite took my breath away.

At some point, I was not only hard again, but I was actually close to orgasm. For some reason, this triggered a bit of a shock for Dylan.

"Please Master! I've been so good for you! Please let me cum!"

He faltered and looked at my face. I can only imagine that it was utterly flushed. Probably looked frantic and desperate.

"Please! Please Master? I'll make you feel so good if you let me cum! You'll feel me milking your shaft with my ass," I continued.

"Um... am I actually supposed to give you permission? If you want to cum, just cum," Dylan said.

This confirmed his lack of experience with this kink, but I was firmly in sub mode at the moment, so I took that as permission.

"Thank you Master! You won't regret giving me permission. I'll feel so good getting tighter on your shaft as you ram me into the bed!"

He nodded, understanding that I needed him to continue what he was doing before he faltered. His moans got louder and full of pleasure as I got tighter and tighter. I didn't realize it at the time, but I had slipped my hands under my back to simulate having them bound in a harness, which also had the bonus of raising me up just a bit.

This seemed to enhance Dylan's pleasure. "So fucking tight!"

"Here I cum!" I announced, arching my back and gasping because it felt like it hit me with the force of a tidal wave.

"Oh God!" Dylan cried out, which turned into a roar. Pure bliss filled me as he bathed my insides with his hotness.

Purring and sighing, I melted into the mattress. Sort of. To me it felt like I'd just melted into a puddle of goo, but apparently my body hadn't quite done that.

"Um... Are you okay?" Dylan asked from somewhere next to me.

"Perfect Master," I assured him with a happy sigh.

"Then why are you still curled in a ball?"

"Master hasn't released the harness," I answered automatically, and then it hit me. "Oh, heh heh! Sorry." Taking stock of my situation, I realized that I was still bent the way he had bent me -- my knees next to my ears -- with my hands under my back so they wouldn't be in my Master's way. Slowly, I pulled my hands out from under me, and then took deep and purposeful breaths as I uncurled and straightened out.

"Will you explain this to me?" Dylan asked with a curious frown.

I nodded, pointing at the glass of water. But before he could hand it to me, my currently subby self noticed something important. "Oh no! This little beggar made a mess all over himself and Master! Should I clean it with my tongue or does Master wish to punish me with the crop?"

Dylan sighed and rubbed his forehead before using that hand and arm to lift me up a bit so that I could drink the water he now held. "I have no idea how to deal with this, and you're currently not making a lot of sense."