After Tamas fucked my face for a long time, we switched positions, and he sat on my face. I rimmed him again, just as passionately as I had blown him, while I used my fist to stimulate my own cock, keeping it hard. It did feel a little strange to be making love to a man who never once touched my own genitals.
Once again, I didn’t have to fake anything. I was genuinely aroused by the time we got around to the anal intercourse. My hole was frantic to be fucked!
I’d racked up my share of sexual experience by that point in my life. Still, being fucked by Tamas was something on an entirely new level. He actually had difficulty getting his cock into me at first, and—cursing in frustration, which looked and sounded extremely hot in the finished video—he had to apply more lube, both to himself and to my asshole.
“Give me that cherry,” he insisted. “This time, I’m going in! You’d better be ready to be fucked, you goddamn tease!”
We tried the insertion again, and this time we succeeded. To put it more accurately, I gritted my teeth and I did my utmost to relax my sphincter while he forced his big cock through it, inch by solid inch. For me, it was like losing my anal virginity all over again. The character I was playing supposedly still had his cherry. When Tamas penetrated me like that, I felt as though my own cherry had somehow, miraculously, grown back again. Only to be popped, instantly and decisively! Christ, that motherfucker was hung!
“Fucking hell!” I yelled. “Could that goddamn dick of yours be any bigger, dude!”
“Take it,” Tamas told me, brusquely. “Take it and love it, muscle boy.”
Once he was lodged deep inside my cringing anus, Tamas performed his specialty. He fucked the hell out of me, pumping away more like some sort of a phallic machine set on “high” than a human being.
Oh, that cock of his! That big, hard, inflexible, tireless cock! I can’t describe how hot it felt, jammed up my ass, reaming me out. Words fail me. I was in sheer anal ecstasy, but at the same time I began to have a genuine fear to the effect that this video might be my last. Surely my asshole was being battered beyond repair? I was stretched out so far that my rectum would never retract to its previous dimensions. I was ruined, anally, for life!
But I’d committed myself. I’d signed a contract. I wasn’t going to let the studio down. I’d wanted to be a porn actor. I’d made my bed, so to speak, and now I was being screwed on it!
I lay there and I let Tamas fuck me. All the while our bodies remained locked tightly together like that, with his cock pummeling away back and forth inside my ass, we both emitted a steady stream of bestial-sounding sex noises, punctuated by regular outbursts of dirty talk. We sweated so profusely that drops of our perspiration escaped from our pores, flew through the air, and rained down onto those lime-green sheets.
After what felt like an eternity, I felt Tamas’ fingertip poking my ass cheek. One … two … three. I braced myself, and on the count of three, just as he’d promised, he yanked his dick out of my ass, which recoiled and cringed in mute protest. On the silent count of “four,” Tamas ripped the condom off his cock and flung it aside with melodramatic flair, and on “five,” he straddled my chest, aimed his dick at my face, and began to unload. He came like a faucet suddenly turned on full blast, spraying his hot, wet semen all over my face. I was covered in the slimy stuff, which got into my eyes, momentarily blinding me. I opened my mouth and stuck out my tongue, and Tamas deposited the rest of his thick load directly onto my lips and tongue. I thought he would never stop coming!
The man wasn’t human. He was a sex machine!
I remembered to follow Endre’s suggestion, I ran my palm over my face, swiping up a slimy handful of the cum, which I used to lubricate my own prick. I gave myself a savage whacking. I’d been afraid I might not be able to come within a reasonable amount of time. I’d had visions of flailing away desperately on my dick, unable to coax an ejaculation out of it, while the disgusted film crew lost patience with me and wondered who in the hell had hired this loser.
But, in the event, there was no problem. I blew my wad quickly and copiously. With a broad grin of approval on his handsome, sweaty face, Tamas leaned over me. For a moment, I thought he might actually break his own rule and kiss me. But instead, he confined himself to giving me a comradely little caress with his hand, on my bare shoulder and chest.
“Good boy,” he told me. “Yeah, that’s a good boy.”
The cameraman moved in close, to get a final shot of my cum-covered torso and face. Then he pulled back, to get both of our bodies in the frame.
Finally, Endre called out, “Cut!”
Tamas and I wiped ourselves on towels, handed to us by the ever-efficient Laszlo. Tamas deigned to tell me, “You did okay, kid. See? I told you it’d go all right.” Then he turned to Endre and inquired, “When do we eat? I’m starved.”
I realized that I was hungry, too. Sex certainly burned off the calories!
Chapter Eight: Bodybuilders by the Dozen
I’d done well. When the executives at the studio saw my scene with Tamas as the finished product, they immediately offered me a contract to appear in three more videos. I was still a beginner in the porn industry, but I’d already set a goal for myself. One day, I promised myself, I’d earn enough clout that I’d have an entire video built around me. I’d be a star, just like Tamas. I’d get top billing, and my photo would be displayed on the front cover of the DVD box.
On the first of these three videos, I was directed by Endre again. This time, though, I was paired with another well-known porn actor, Zsolt. Refreshingly, Zsolt was the opposite of gay for pay. He was openly and unapologetically gay, and he was also a dirty sex pig whose strong libido and complete lack of inhibition made me feel downright repressed, by contrast.
We did our shoot this time in Budapest, in a loft space which had been converted into an apartment. Once again, someone’s home had been pressed into service as our set. And once again, I had the luxury of being able to hang out on the premises before and after my actual scene. This gave me an opportunity to observe Endre, the crew, and the other actors, at work and learn from them.
Zsolt had one personal quirk which seemed strange to encounter in a porn star. He was physically quite modest. He had a great body, but he kept it covered whenever the cameras weren’t rolling. This was in contrast to the other actors, who thought nothing of parading around the set either virtually or wholly naked. But Zsolt had an old, well-worn blue-and-white striped cotton bathrobe in which he wrapped himself. The bathrobe didn’t come off until the moment a scene was about to begin; and, as soon as Endre called, “Cut!” Zsolt would put the bathrobe back on, once again covering up his assets.
The irony was that, while he was actually performing, Zsolt was the least inhibited man I’d ever seen having sex. I was in awe of his ability to suck and deep-throat the biggest cocks, without the slightest hint of difficulty or discomfort. And his anus seemed to be every bit as elastic as his throat. Double penetration—taking two dicks up his ass at once—was among his specialties. Most of his videos included this stunt, which was his trademark.
Coming once only seemed to reenergize Zsolt, and make him ready for more. I watched in real awe while he and his two costars did the double penetration scene. Zsolt took those two big cocks up his ass, and the whole time, he begged for more. The moment the guys were done—in an explosive triple outpouring of semen—Zsolt wrapped himself in that ratty old bathrobe of his, and he went into the bathroom to freshen up.
A few minutes later, he emerged from the bathrobe, still covered up by his robe—and raring to go again.
“Well, I’m ready. Let’s do it, Emeric,” he urged me, brightly.
I stripped.
Zsolt and the other two guys had carried out their double fuck on the bed, which was quite a mess as a result. However, Endre had already decided that Zsolt and I would do our scene in the loft’s living room, for the sake of providing some visual variety.
In the center of the living room
there was a deep-piled, multicolored Oriental rug underfoot, and, arranged upon it, a long sofa upholstered in chestnut-colored leather flanked by two roomy matching armchairs, plus a coffee table with a thick glass top. Endre encouraged Zsolt and me to move freely from one piece of furniture to another during our sex. But he was especially keen that we utilize the coffee table at some point, while we fucked. Endre wanted the cameraman to get down on the rug, slide under the table, and aim his camera up, through the glass table top, to capture a close-up of us fucking from below. Luckily, the cameraman was not only agile, but a good sport, who was accustomed to maneuvering himself into uncomfortable positions for the sake of his craft.
Endre had already tested the coffee table by having not two, but three guys sit on it, to make sure the glass could take the weight without breaking—a bit of foresight on his part for which Zsolt and I were profoundly grateful. Neither of us was keen about the possibility of having a splinter of glass suddenly pierce his butt!
I immediately started to worry, though, about the very real possibility of us getting cum stains on the furniture or the rug, or both. But I was soon reassured. Once again, that hard-working assistant, Laszlo, was on duty. At the moment he was hovering just outside of camera range, armed with a large damp sponge in one hand, a bottle of spray cleaner in the other, and a roll of paper towels tucked under one arm. He was prepared, the instant Endre said “Cut,” to swoop down and mop up any semen we spilled on any surface other than each other’s skin. I found the situation slightly comical, and my amusement helped me relax and avoid stage fright.
Zsolt and I began by fooling around together on the sofa, which was quite comfortable. After some sexy deep kissing, I twisted my body around on top of him, positioning my face above his groin and taking his cock in my hand.
My lips pressed a continuous kiss all over the hard head of his penis, before I licked his piss slit and savored the liquid which was seeping out of it. When I inserted my tongue-tip into the tiny slot to coax out more of that sweet-tasting pre-cum, Zsolt’s body shuddered—and he gave me what I wanted, more drops of his fluid, a preview of what would be coming soon.
I made love to that smooth, round cockhead, first nuzzling it with my lips, then easing it inside my mouth, and finally letting it slip down into my throat. That sizzling sex flesh made my every nerve ending tingle, as though with electrical charges. I sucked more of his shaft between my lips, taking all of him, and I let his cock stay there, half choking me. My nostrils flared with excitement as I deeply inhaled his manly body odor. I massaged his strong leg muscles. Moan after moan of appreciative delight escaped from his lips.
“I’m going to fuck your mouth like a cunt,” Zsolt promised me, and he was as good as his word.
I relaxed my throat muscles just in time, before he thrust himself deep into me. I didn’t choke on his meat, somewhat to my surprise. After forcing me to suck him for a long time, Zsolt finally pulled his saliva-dripping penis back out of my mouth.
I looked up at his handsome face. It was livid with lust. Leering at me, satyr-like, he proclaimed, “Your ass is mine now, muscle boy!”
He grabbed a rubber and put it on. He pressed his body against mine, with my buttocks jammed tightly into his groin. He started to shove his dick into me. I shuddered with sheer bliss in response to the overpowering sensation of his fuck tool sliding up into my hole.
“Goddamn,” he muttered. “I love fucking that hot, tight muscle ass of yours.”
“Fuck the living hell out of my hole,” I invited him.
He fucked me for what seemed like an eternity, plunging monotonously in and out of me, while the camera captured every moment of the anal abuse to which I was being subjected. I held on and enjoyed the ride, forgetting that we were being filmed, aware of nothing except the heat and pleasure of having that big dick pummeling in and out of my asshole.
Zsolt gripped my shoulders, hard, digging his fingertips into my flesh. His entire body tensed.
“Shit!” he bellowed. “You son of a bitch! You’re sucking the hot cum right out of my dick. Hell, yes. I’m going to come!”
His cock spasmed madly inside the tight clasp of my anus, coming precariously close to depositing its load into the condom, out of sight. But Zsolt was too much of a pro not to deliver the cum shot as required. At the last possible moment, he yanked his prick out of me, ripped off the rubber, and began to blast an awesome quantity of jism all over my back and buttocks. I thought he would never stop coming, and in fact he was still spurting when I, too, started to ejaculate. My body shook wildly and my asshole kept clenching and unclenching as though Zsolt’s cock was still inside me. Moaning, I lost my wad—which Zsolt immediately claimed, swabbing up every drop of my scattered semen with his tongue.
“Oh, sweet stud cum,” he moaned, as he licked up my discharge, not missing a drop of it.
I kept waiting for Endre to say “Cut,” but he didn’t. The cameraman went on rolling. I later learned that they were used to working with Zsolt, and they knew he could usually be relied upon to come more than once in the course of a single scene.
Without so much as pausing for breath, Zsolt next attacked my just-fucked ass, rimming me hungrily. At last he reached for a fresh condom, to put on his still-hard cock.
“Again,” he panted. “I’m going to have to fuck that hot ass of yours again.”
I was more than ready and willing. “Get that motherfucking dick of yours in me!” I demanded.
Incredibly, the fuck was even rougher, even hotter—and even better—the second time. Laszlo had plenty of spilled and splattered jism to wipe up, afterward.
I was making steady progress. For the next video in which I appeared, the studio decided upon a bodybuilding theme. The cast consisted entirely of muscle men, some of whom I was already acquainted with. There’d be guys working out and getting it on together in the gym; guys relaxing and sweating before getting it on in the steam room; guys having sex in the locker room; and so forth.
The exciting thing, for me, was that I’d participate in two scenes of this video. I’d be one of the two guys making out in the locker room. But then, even better, I’d be in the climactic scene. For this episode, Endre envisioned a gangbang, with me as the guy being banged.
“The whole sequence will be built around you, Emeric,” he promised. “We’ve decided you deserve to be showcased. You’re the hot new addition to our lineup, the viewers are curious about you, and we’re going to take advantage of this. Now, the whole point of this scene is going to be you having sex, sex, and more sex. Nonstop sucking, nonstop fucking. You’ll have a cock in your mouth and up your ass the whole time. If you’re up to it, of course.”
Oh, I was up to it, all right! What Endre was proposing sounded just fine to me.
I was a bit disconcerted, though, when I found out exactly what kind of a setting Endre had in mind for this scene. He was determined to shoot it as though it was the aftermath of a bodybuilding contest. He wanted us actors, the “contestants,” oiled up and stripped down to posing trunks, doing a typical pose down onstage. Then the winner would be announced, and he’d be handed his trophy, while photographers took pictures.
The winner would be me. Backstage after the contest, the other bodybuilders would decide to celebrate my victory by ganging up on me and fucking me shitless.
“You see, you big muscle studs are all so horny as a result of the testosterone and the adrenalin, and from being out there practically naked in front of an audience, posing and flexing, that you just have to have some relief,” Endre explained. “You can’t wait. You have to have sex. So you rip off your posing trunks and get right down to it backstage, like animals.”
I felt obligated to protest to Endre that a scenario like this was highly unlikely to take place in real life. I couldn’t speak for other bodybuilders, but I knew that, after a contest, I was usually so physically exhausted that the last thing on my mind was sex. All I wanted to do was shower, change into my street clothes, get somethi
ng to eat to replenish my diminished energy, and go home and fall into bed—alone—to get some rest.
Endre was undeterred. “We aren’t selling real life here, Emeric,” he told me. “We’re selling fantasy.” Words to live by, I guessed, given the business we were in.
With typical resourcefulness, the studio found an actual auditorium which they could rent, for this all-important climactic scene. It was a small space, but it was fully equipped with a stage, a proscenium arch, a curtain, and all of the usual stage lights and other necessities.
I got into the spirit of the thing, and I supplied a vital prop—the trophy. For maximum visual impact, I selected the largest one I’d won to date.
We got the locker room scene “in the can” without incident, and a few days later we assembled in the rented auditorium. This shoot took place late at night, because that was when everybody was available.
We actors stripped, and helped one another to oil up, just as we would for an actual physique contest.
We got to work. First, we posed for a number of still photos, which could be used as publicity pictures—in advertising, and possibly on the box of the completed video. (In general, as I believe I’ve said before, the big stars were depicted on the box front. A newcomer and a bit player such as myself would be shown in a thumbnail image on the back of the box—if he was lucky.) I was an old hand at posing for photographers, of course, not only stripped down to minimal workout attire or just a pair of posing trunks, but occasionally completely nude. By now, too, I’d worked with Endre and the crew enough to think of them not only as coworkers, but as old friends. I felt completely at ease.
We then filmed the pose down and the trophy presentation, all of which seemed rather surreal because of the absence of an audience. All of the seats out there in the auditorium were empty. (In the finished video, the sounds of applause and cheers were added to the soundtrack, quite convincingly.)
Bodybuilder in Blue Page 11
