Bobby Green

by Amy Lane

“Yeah, well, we can’t do anything about him.” Dex sighed. “Look—I’m printing out Digger’s schedule—”

  “Who in the fuck is Digger?” John asked blankly, and Vern got a good look at Digger grimacing. Dex threw John a meaningful look, and John clapped his hand over his face. “Sorry, Reg. Digger. Sorry, Digger.”

  Digger’s smile held no rancor. “Sort of my fault,” he said sunnily. “I should never have tried to change it.”

  “Anyway—I’m getting his schedule, and then I need you to talk to Vern here and maybe film his audition. Trust me, it’ll be worth taking time out of your day.”

  Vern shifted uncomfortably and offered a game smile. “I’ll do my best?”

  John laughed and shook his hand just when Dex said, “And here we go, Digger.”

  The printer spat out a sheet of paper, and Dex grabbed a highlighter from a coffee cup on the corner of the desk and scanned through it quickly. “Here, here, here, here, here, and here. You’re on a lot in the next two months—I hope that’s okay.”

  “Girls?” Digger said, sounding delighted. “That’s exciting. I didn’t know if that was gonna last.”

  “Yeah, well, you can get it up around ’em. You’re a natural.”

  Digger grinned with pride. “Oh, hey—Ethan in a couple weeks. That’s great! Haven’t shot with him in a while.”

  “You should give him a call—everyone likes a friend,” Dex said, and the kindness in his voice told Vern this was something he’d reminded Digger of before.

  “Awesome!” Digger sighed then, his shoulders drooping. “Okay—I guess that’s all—”

  “No, wait!” John frowned like he was thinking. “No, Digger, no. Actually, if you can wait out with Kelsey for a minute, let me talk to Vern here. If he’s up for an audition, I may need a light man. I can pay you.”

  Digger brightened. “Very cool. Something to do today! I’m down!” He practically skipped out of the office, and Vern watched him go, utterly bemused.

  “Digger,” he said philosophically.

  “Yeah.” Dex shrugged gamely and stood up, offering John the desk chair. “I’m glad you came in, Vern. Talk to John here, and hopefully I’ll see you around.”

  John accepted the offer and sank into the desk chair. “Thanks, Dex. Give Tommy my best.”

  He turned to Vern and smiled slightly. “So, now you’ve met Dex, and you’ve met Kelsey and—”

  “And Kane and Digger,” Vern supplied.

  “Good!” John gave a fond glance out the window at Digger. “Digger’s a good guy. Not bright—but a real good heart.” John looked up at the group photo. “They’re all good guys,” he said with decision. “Or most of them.” A brief scowl, and Vern wondered who up there John didn’t like. “The thing is, we try to make this a good place to work.” A blink and a sudden realization. “You, uh, do know what we do here, right?”

  Well, if he’d had any doubts before he’d walked in, he sure didn’t now. “Porn?”

  John nodded. “We just added girls to the mix, so we’re not sure how profitable it will be. Now, people think porn is easy and great—it’s just fucking for the camera, right? Yay spiffy! Let’s fuck! But there’s more to it than that. You up for the spiel?”

  Vern’s turn to nod. “Hit me.”

  “Okay, first of all, you’ve got to get it up and keep it up, and you’ve got to do it while we’ve got a camera guy, a light guy, and someone to run the board. Sometimes we can do it with just one guy, but not if we want it to look great, and we want to make great porn. You’ve got to take care of your body—work out, keep clean, don’t eat crap all the time—and you’ve got to have your mind in your work. We’re selling fantasy, so if you can’t fuck while you’ve got your body stretched one way and your dick in someone you met five minutes ago, you should probably rethink this, right?”

  Oh. He hadn’t thought of that. “I, uh—I’ll be honest. I’m not sure. I think I could do it, but guys talk all the time. My, uh… you know. Little Vern—”

  “Well, we hope he’s not that little,” John said matter-of-factly.

  “Yeah—that guy. Anyway, he doesn’t seem to actually give a shit who’s doing what. If sex is on, he’s on. So I think I could do this.”

  John bobbed his head, longish ginger hair flopping as he did so. Vern decided he liked John. He wasn’t as warm as Dex, but he was… well, dreamy. Involved, but dreamy. Vern could handle that. John was the kid who had other things to do in school besides school.

  “Okay—good,” John was saying. “Now, we usually have a solo audition, followed by testing.”

  “Like, uh, a written exam?” Vern asked, confused, and John laughed like a little kid.

  “HIV testing, you precious little pumpkin, you. The testing is a big deal. You’re tested three days before, you’re tested on set, you’re tested three days after. You sign a contract that says no sex—alone or with a friend—three days before the shoot. Part of that is to make sure the tests are good. Part of that is to make sure you’ve got plenty to shoot, if you know what I mean. But in a month I want all my shoots filmed bareback, girls or boys, and we want to make sure everybody’s safe.”

  Vern blinked and tried to tamp down on the roiling in his stomach. He’d never thought of testing when he was sucking Keith Gilmore’s cock. It probably wouldn’t matter. If he and Keith were only sucking each other, that was fine. But Keith didn’t think of it as sex. What if he’d been “not” having not-sex with a thousand other guys?

  “That’s fair,” he said.

  John tapped his pen affirmatively. “A clean boy is a happy boy. Now, about girls or boys—I’m not going to ask who you like best. I’m not even going to ask about your history, but you can tell me if you feel like it. It makes good copy. I’m just going to put it out on the table that guys pay more and ask you if you’re willing. And I’m not going to do it now. First let’s see if you can get it up and make it work in front of me and Reg—goddammit, Digger—and then we’ll go from there.”

  Vern swallowed. “Right now?” he asked, thinking Wait, I’m going to go masturbate in front of strangers?

  John shot him a look as level as it was unwavering, and Vern realized this was where shit got real. “You can do it in a room or a courtyard. Is that going to be a problem?”

  A vision flashed behind Vern’s eyes of being naked in the sun, with his fist around his cock, as he showed this pragmatic dreamer and his sweet, more mortal buddy exactly what it was he could do.

  He’d be the center of their attention. He’d be the star of the show.

  Unsurprisingly, the vision made him hard.

  “Outside would be fine,” he said without blinking.

  John grinned. “Solid.”

  IT TOOK John and Digger ten minutes to set up. Vern was half-hard before he was even in front of the camera. John talked to him at first, asked him if he’d ever done this before in front of strangers, asked him if it made him hot.

  “Yeah.” Vern half laughed. Getting his knob waxed by Keith Gilmore had apparently been training for this moment—who knew? Taking his shirt off was second nature. It’s what country boys did in the sun, and he smiled up at the sky, eyes closed, as he sat on a chaise lounge and ran his fingers over his chest. He used to jerk off like he was going for a record in high school—he knew what he liked.

  “Hard on the nipples,” Digger murmured, and Vern nodded, keeping his eyes closed.

  “Yup…,” he hissed and pulled harder, arching his hips. Oh, this was nice. The courtyard was just big enough to catch a little breeze, and he was sitting under a tree—a little bit of shade but not enough to make him chilly. This was a good place, and he wondered how many other guys had jerked off here for the camera.

  The thought brought his cock from half-hard to all the way hard, and he slid his hands under his waistband to make himself comfortable.

  He heard Digger’s caught breath, the unmistakable sound of anticipation as Digger held a light over a reflecting board aimed at him, and he
slid his jeans right down to his ankles, and there he was, in full view of God and everyone.

  He didn’t care much about God, but boy, for a guy who thought he’d live and die in a forgotten corner of the mountains, it was a fuckin’ charge to be there in front of everyone.

  “Holy wow,” Digger breathed, and John made a little grunt of affirmation.

  “That’s some piece of equipment you got there,” John said appreciatively. “You know how to use that thing?”

  Vern kept his eyes closed and grabbed himself at the base, squeezing hard and stroking up. And up. And up. “I’ll take pointers,” he purred. Both of them had worked here. Both of them. They’d been with guys. There was no shame here. He spread his legs and planted his feet so he could cup his balls.

  “Fingers in your mouth,” Digger said, suddenly sounding authoritative and in charge. “’Cause you know where you want ’em, right?”

  Yeah. Oh yeah. Vern knew what he was saying. Keith wouldn’t touch him here, but Vern knew that’s where he wanted to be touched, and out here, in the open, being admired and spurred on?

  He sucked on his fingers hard and kept right on stroking his cock.

  Fat and long—he’d measured nearly ten inches when he was sixteen and did that sort of thing. But he knew it was big—Jessica seemed to like it. Keith thought it was worth blackmailing for. But here, under the sun and the observation, he could be proud of it. This thing felt good, and it was beautiful, and oh! Oh! It ached! It hurt so sweet, he’d squeeze it some more, and the whole rest of him wanted touch too.

  He rolled to the side, and while his top hand kept stroking, playing with his bell, skating across the head in the precome that drooled from the top, his outside arm reached back until his spit-slickened fingers brushed up against his asscheeks, went searching for….

  Ah! Just one brush, that’s all it took, and he started to convulse. He rolled to his back again and shook, putting both hands on his cock and jerking hard… so hard… oh God….

  “Ah!”

  He let the word rip just as his come fountained up like a geyser, shooting over his head for a minute before splatting back down on his chest. And again. And again. A strip hit him across the face and another one across his chin. He couldn’t seem to stop coming, and when he did, Digger was there, stroking his hair back from his face, grinning.

  “Holy fuckin’ wow,” Digger said, awestruck. “That was real fucking impressive. Just think—I might get to ride that pony one day.”

  “That’s not a pony,” John said good-naturedly, putting the camera down. “That there’s a stallion.” He walked to Vern with a towel and a fluffy white bathrobe in his hand. “Here, kid. Get dressed. Digger’ll show you where to wash up. I’m going to edit this. Then you and me, we’ll talk business, deal?”

  Vern nodded at him dazedly, reluctant to leave his sprawl under the sky.

  Only Digger’s hands—rough, short-fingered, nails clipped to the quick—stroking through his hair kept him rooted to the world at large.

  Blinded by the Bright

  WHEN REG had first come to work for Johnnies, John still had the auditions and filmed the porn in his house. Reg had sort of liked that. John kept a nice cozy little home; everything was in good repair. He’d felt safe there. He hadn’t had sex with a guy before, but he’d done lots of girls, and he had no problem jerking off for the camera.

  That first day—the day of the audition tape—John had asked him if he wanted a porn name.

  “I didn’t have a family pet,” he said, because that was how the joke worked, right?

  John stared at him, perplexed. “Reg, this isn’t the joke thing. This is having a name to protect your identity.”

  “But, you know. I’m Reg, the famous porn star. Why wouldn’t I want people to know?”

  John had red hair and green eyes with blond lashes. When his eyes got really big, it looked like they were bugging out of his head.

  “Reg, do you want people to know this about you without your permission? What about your parents—?”

  “Mom split three years ago,” Reg told him without self-pity. He’d been sixteen, after all, and his other sister, Queenie, had left the year before, with her twins and her new baby. Queenie had a boyfriend, and their mom just had to leave. “Just me and my sister.”

  A small furrow appeared between John’s eyes. “How old is your sister?”

  “She’s older—she’s thirty. But I take care of her.” Reggie had frowned then, probably getting the same line between his eyes John had. “There were papers that showed up when I turned eighteen. They said I was in charge.”

  John’s eyes got even bigger. And a little haunted. “You’re in charge of your sister? Your thirty-year-old sister?”

  Oh shit. Reg gnawed on the cuticle of his thumb. “There were papers,” he said seriously. “She showed me how to sign them.” He smiled conspiratorially. “Actually, I signed them as my mother when I was sixteen. But don’t worry. We do okay.” He grinned then so John couldn’t see that they only did good when she took her meds. If Reg forgot—spent a night at a girlfriend’s house or didn’t show up for breakfast, maybe—she’d lie and say she took them. They weren’t okay then. They got really bad sometimes. So he didn’t do that much anymore.

  “Where do you live?” John asked, looking at the address Reg had put on the application.

  “There,” Reg said. “You know, Carmichael. Mom left us the house. Some money. I just gotta save money for taxes, right? And I could sorta do that at McDonald’s, but then, you know.” He grinned. “I was surfing porn, and there was your ad. I mean, fucking on camera—way better than McD’s, right?”

  John shook his head, staring at the application and then staring at Reggie like he was trying to make a decision. Finally he took a deep breath.

  “Reggie, do you have a driver’s license?”

  Reggie nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Are you registered to vote?”

  He shrugged. “No. Do I have to be to work in porn?”

  John looked surprised then, and he let out a puzzled little half laugh. “No. No, you don’t. And I’m losing sight of my goal here. A name, Reg. Do you want a different name when you work here?”

  Reg had grimaced and scratched the back of his head. He’d worn his hair long back then, in thick brown curls. “I’m not that bright, John. Seriously. If someone calls me by another name while I’m fucking, I’ll lose my boner looking to see who they’re talking to.”

  John’s mouth opened and closed, then opened again.

  Then closed. He mumbled something to himself that sounded a lot like “I don’t know which one would be worse.”

  Reggie’s eyes clouded. “I did okay, right?” He’d jerked off. His body was the smartest thing he had—responsive, decently endowed. John had said something about working out, because he wasn’t very buff, and he figured if his job was fucking on camera, he could work out plenty. “I mean, I didn’t suck at jerking off.” He stood up and started to unbuckle his pants before shoving his hand down the front and working himself again. “I could do it again right now.”

  And John, who had just spent half an hour telling him he had a cock like a god, turned bright red and held his hands out in front of his face like he’d never seen a naked man before.

  “No! No! Reg, time and place, okay? You’re great at jerking off! You rock at it! If you can fuck in public, you’ve got the job—”

  “I’ve got the job?” Reg was so excited he forgot to do up his fly. He pulled his hands out of his pants and waved them over his head, jumping up and down. “That’s awesome! Woot! I’m a porn star!”

  “A gay porn star,” John said carefully. He’d said something about this before, but Reg hadn’t really registered.

  “Does this mean I have to have sex with men?”

  John’s left eye started to twitch. “Yes? We talked about this? It’s, uh, a requirement, Reg.”

  Reg nodded, remembering this. “Okay. Yeah. You’re right. I can do
that.” He gnawed his lip. “What if my boner melts?” And suddenly a little bit of his desperation seeped into his voice. “McDonald’s sucks, John. They yell at you there. It’s loud. People get mad. I had a lady yell at me because I got her drink wrong. She was awful—I had to shut the window. Why people gotta be like that?”

  John shook his head, green eyes dazed. “I don’t know. I have no idea. Don’t worry, Reg—we’ll take care of you. There’s things you can do if the boner, uh, melts. As long as you want to work for me, I want you to work. I promise.”

  Oh, that was nice. Reg hadn’t gotten a lot of that since his mom had taken off and he’d had to find jobs. Veronica had looked the jobs up on the computer—Reg wasn’t good with them. He’d been taking workability classes in high school, not computer classes, and Veronica got awful when she was trying to teach him how to do things. He could surf the net, end of story. If he hadn’t been watching porn on his own laptop, this opportunity would never have fallen into his lap. So having someone be nice about a job—that meant a lot to Reg. He didn’t want to let John down.

  “Okay, then,” Reg said trusting this nice man with the camera. “If you can help me out, I’ll do whatever you need me to.” He nodded, remembering some of his nicer teachers. “I’m dependable. I’ll do whatever you ask me to. I promise.”

  John closed his eyes and nodded back. “God, it’s a good thing I’m already going to hell.”

  “You’ll go to heaven,” Reg said, because good guys did. His mom had taught him that much. “Just don’t make me take another name.”

  John had heaved a sigh and conceded, and Reg thought everything was going to be fine.

  Everything was rarely that easy.

  The first time a guy went down on him, he froze.

  His sister’s words had rung in his ears—not from when she took her meds, but those other times, when she didn’t take her pills and her blue eyes darted and she did the junkie tap on her computer desk. She shouted at the computer then, shrill words about fags doing each other and how her brother better not be a little faggot. Reg had been fine during the kissing and the touching part. The guy had laughed, and his body had been nice. Smooth tanned skin and muscles were fun to touch on a girl or a boy. Reg hadn’t known.