Logan stands up and I follow his lead, Bob and his other crew members striding across the huge sun-drenched living room. We follow them down a hallway into one of the bedrooms of the house, big box lights positioned near the bed, an undoubtedly expensive camera resting on the blue sheets. The frame is solid wood, obviously not something cheap from IKEA, a huge padded headboard stretching above it with a couple plush pillows positioned in front.
The old man lifts the camera up and I assume he's the one who's going to be filming us, but he sets it down on a dresser instead, turning back to face us. "Go ahead and sit down next to each other on the bed," he directs.
I watch Logan climb into it, sitting upright at the center with his legs crossed looking toward the lights, and I follow suit, our knees touching together.
Bob definitely looks like a manager standing there overseeing everything, his arms now crossed over his chest as he's staring at us. "Brent, just treat Logan like he's a girl you really want to fuck," he instructs. "Kiss him passionately, put your hands on his body, feel him up the way you would some lucky girl you're taking home."
I nod my head. "Yeah, Ok."
One of Bob's assistants steps closer and the old dude looks at him. "This is Todd, Brent," he says as he gazes back at me. "He's going to be directing you and filming the scene. All you need to do is follow his cues and you'll be fine. Make it hot, boys," he encourages, lowering his arms down and walking out of the room.
Todd is obviously fit and attractive, maybe 30 years old. I assume he'd been performing for the studio until he took this job, watching him pick the big camera up. "Brent, kind of match whatever Logan is doing," he instantly starts directing. "If he kisses you, kiss him back. If he puts his hands on you, put your hands on him too. But don't block the shot. Pay attention to where your hands and arms are."
I kind of wish Bob was still here, anxious about having this total stranger direct me. His warning already has me worrying that I'm going to fuck up and put my arm in the wrong place and I'm starting to feel stressed out. "Yeah, got it," I say anyway. I'll figure out what I need to do. I want that fucking money.
"Alright, let's get started then," the director announces, holding the camera up. "Just relax and have fun. We're going to chat a little and then you guys are going to start making out. Ready?" He doesn't wait for an answer. "Three, two, one."
I know he's recording everything now and I'm nervous as fuck, but I can do this. I'm going to channel my fake, fun-loving bartender persona like never before, flirting with that lens like it's my best tipping customer of the night. I'm going to fuck this little gay guy and make it look hot.
"So, Logan," Todd begins, "do you have any idea how big Brent's dick is?"
He looks at me and I look at him and we both laugh. "I might have touched it a little before we started filming," he offers seductively to the camera. "I'm definitely going to enjoy it."
"And Brent," the director prompts, "this will be the first time you've ever fooled around with another guy, right?"
I stare into the lens like Logan had. "Yeah, first time ever," I say gruffly, flashing a big smirk.
"And what do you think about Logan?" he asks.
I have to fucking improvise lines too? I peer over at my scene partner like I'm appraising him, Logan's face turning toward mine. "He's a really pretty guy, honestly," I answer, the words effortlessly flowing out of my mouth as his bright blue eyes gaze into mine. "I think I'm going to have fun with him."
Logan cracks up, planting his hand on my thigh and digging his fingers in, just like we had practiced earlier, as we both look toward the camera again.
"Well, I'm definitely sensing some natural chemistry between you two, so I'm going to shut up now and let you guys go at it."
Logan slides a little closer to me, reaching his hand around the back of my head, pulling my face into his and kissing my lips. I grab his shoulder, shifting my hand to his back, as we're still gently kissing, his smooth skin brushing against my beard, his soft lips actually feeling good as he shoves his tongue into my mouth. We start making out, our tongues moving against each other like they had earlier, my scene partner's hand lowering to my stomach, his fingers tracing the faint abs beneath my shirt.
I feel totally at ease kissing him with a little experience under my belt. Logan is even more forceful with both of us sitting here in front of the camera, but I like it, matching his intensity. Making out with him now, feeling him try to be more passionate, I'm absolutely certain no girl has ever kissed me like this. As much as I loved making out with the random chicks I banged all the time, I'd never met one who kissed me like this. Logan is firm and obviously hungry to taste me, almost viciously attacking my mouth, and I'm greedily counterstriking right back, reciprocating everything as both of us softly moan into each other. I'm actually fucking enjoying kissing a dude. The thought disturbs me but I remind myself we're just acting. We're getting paid to make this seem hotter than it ever is in real life.
Logan starts to press his hand underneath my shirt as our tongues are still driving together, raising the fabric up. I copy his movement, rubbing my hand against his stomach, lifting his shirt up too and running my fingers along his smooth, cut abs. They're definitely more defined than mine are, my fingers sinking into the depressions between the muscles.
He breaks the kiss and starts to pull his shirt off as I tear my hand away to follow his lead, gripping my fingers around the neck of the shirt the studio had provided and lifting it up over my body. We both throw the garments to the floor, my hand finding Logan's smooth chest as he presses his face back to my lips. I'm feeling his little pecs as he's kissing me again, holding on to my bicep as our tongues twirl together. Logan moves his hand to my forearm, gently guiding my fingers up to the back of his head. I dig into his hair and pull our mouths together, kissing him deeper until he releases and takes hold of my bulge.
I'd probably be rock hard right now even without the Viagra, desperate to be touched, desperate to feel a hand on my dick again, any hand, even his. I touch his abs a second time, admiring how fucking ripped they are, before I grip his bulge too as we're still kissing, feeling his hard dick through the fabric of his sweatpants. I'd never touched another guy's bulge until that moment, assuming it was going to weird me out, but I'd had my hand all over my own cock for so many years now. Feeling a solid dick actually felt like the most natural thing in the world to me, even if it wasn't mine.
