Hi Everyone,
This story came to me unexpectedly and in a rush, flowing out onto the page before I even realized there was a story to tell.
For those who need warnings, this story is unconventional and doesn't fit neatly into a romance arc. Both main characters work in the porn industry, and the sex scenes reflect that reality. I hope you'll read the story with an open mind and come to appreciate the characters as much as I have.
As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts and reactions, so please comment!
Yours,
Hudson Bartholomew
Copyright © 2016 by Hudson Bartholomew. All rights reserved. This story or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
*****
Between the Push and Pull – Chapter 1
"Fuck, yeah," the twink muttered as he pushed himself back on his hands and knees, almost knocking Ryan off balance. Ryan grunted and squeezed the boy's hips to keep them in the rhythm, and then he slapped the bare butt cheek to keep the boy in line.
Ryan leaned back to let the camera get a good shot of his cock disappearing into the stretched asshole of the boy bent over before him. A few more strokes like this and they'd get to switch positions. Good thing, Ryan's knees were starting to burn from the course carpet.
Ryan slapped the boy's ass again and pulled out slowly to make sure his condom stayed on. He manhandled the boy until they were flipped, Ryan on his back and the boy straddling him—time to let the new kid do the work.
Ryan laid there, head cradled in his hands, watching the boy bounce up and down on his cock, and he couldn't help but smirk. The kid was over doing it—too much high pitched moaning, too many "fuck, yeahs," and an unconvincing sultry eye. If he kept this up, Ryan was going to lose his erection and the movie would end up a lot shorter than any of them had anticipated.
The boy continued to bounce, but Ryan got bored of just lying there. He reached out and grabbed the twink by the hips and pulled hard, driving his cock as deep into the boy as it could go. It had the desired effect—the boy let out a big whoosh as the air rushed out of his lungs, his eyes bulged, and his hands grasped at Ryan to keep from falling over. That's right, Ryan thought, let's hear your "fuck, yeahs" now.
Out of the corner of his eye, Ryan saw the director shake his head, but Ryan didn't care. After three years of this, Ryan considered himself a veteran of the gay porn industry, and he realized he had less and less patience for the newbies with their overacting.
"Alright, that's enough," Gary, the director said. "Let's get this over with. Bryce, on your back with your knees pulled up. Roman, time to spill your load. We'll get the close up shot from over here."
Roman. That was Ryan's stage name. Roman Cox, to be exact. Sexier than Ryan Cote, and safer than using his real name.
Ryan pulled off the condom and started rubbing one out. This was always the hardest part, getting aroused enough to actually cum. When he started doing porn, actually having sex was enough so that a couple of tugs were all he needed to cum. After a while, he had to fantasize about something or someone to get there. Now, it was almost like meditating.
Ryan emptied his mind, blocked out the lights and the hovering camera, the annoying boy lying naked before him, and concentrated on the feeling of his hands gliding over the sensitive skin of his cock. He twisted his grip when he got to the tip and swiped his thumb across the piss slit. His other hand cupped his balls, gently massaging to get the juices flowing, and a couple of fingers slipped back to rub against his perineum.
A few moments like this and he felt his balls tighten. He grasped onto the sensation and chased it until he felt the rush of falling over the edge. One shot, two shots, three shots, and he was done. Bent over and breathing heavily, his mind still a blank white as he slowly found his way back to the present.
When he finally blinked away the rush, the boy was rubbing Ryan's cum over his stomach. It was supposed to be a sexy move, but the way the boy bit his lip and peeked out from under his lashes almost made Ryan laugh. He gave the boy a quick slap on the ass to tell him to get going.
The boy got the message and quickly stroked himself to completion while Ryan watched with disinterest. When it was all over, Ryan leaned over and gave the boy a quick courtesy peck on the lips.
"Cut! Good job, guys," Gary shouted.
Ryan grabbed the robe lying on a nearby chair. "We're done for the day?" he asked.
"Yeah, we're good. Hey, you got a minute to chat?"
Ryan glanced at the wall clock—four o'clock. He had just enough time to run home, shower, and get to the bar to set up for his evening shift.
"Not really, is it urgent?"
"Naw, don't worry about it. We'll catch up later."
"Cool, see ya."
*****
"Hey Ryan," Amanda shouted as she brushed past him. "You've got another admirer." She nodded toward the end of the bar.
Ryan gave her a crooked smile, "You know I've only got eyes for you, honey."
Amanda rolled her eyes and grabbed a couple of beers out of the ice.
Ryan turned back to the drinks he was making, and ignored whoever the admirer was at the end of the bar. There tended to be at least one person every few days, but Ryan was never interested, so he never paid them any real attention.
Amanda and the other bar staff had bugged him about it numerous times. Whenever they brought it up, he'd just shrug it off with a smile. For a while, they were making up stories for why Ryan never hooked up with a customer or never talked about seeing anyone.
They started innocently enough—Ryan was gay and the admirers were all girls; Ryan grinned and shrugged. Then he got some male admirers and he still didn't react—so maybe he wasn't gay, but just picky; Ryan grinned and shrugged. For a while they were convinced Ryan was the submissive in some kinky master and slave relationship; Ryan grinned and shrugged.
They finally decided that Ryan was non-sexual; Ryan grinned and shrugged but figured they weren't far from the truth. It wasn't that he was non-sexual, he just never met anyone that peaked his interest. And he was getting off enough with his porn job that his physical needs were being taken care of just fine.
Ryan was a loner, and he was content to stay that way.
Ryan forgot about his admirer as the evening went on. It was Friday and the bar was packed with people wanting to have a good time. His tip jar was seeing a good amount of action. It wasn't until he made his way to the end of the bar in search for his next order did he remember that someone had been admiring him.
The guy had very dark hair and very light eyes—it was impossible to tell what colors exactly with the lighting. And he was staring at Ryan unabashedly from his perch on the barstool.
One glance and Ryan knew that he knew. It wasn't the first time a customer had recognized Ryan from one of his porn videos. He'd respond the way he responded to everything—a grin and a shrug. But this guy wasn't just staring at Ryan, he was examining Ryan; the only other time Ryan had been examined that way was during auditions.
Then it dawned on Ryan; the guy didn't just know, he was in the industry. A second glance confirmed it.
He had broad shoulders and tightly defined muscles under the snug fitting t-shirt. The lips were full, slightly pouty. Wisps of a tattoo peeked out from under his sleeve, snaking across his left arm.
Eight inches, thick, was Ryan's guess. He was definitely part of the industry.
"Need a refill?" Ryan asked as he gestured to the nearly empty pint glass in front of the stranger.
