Out of the Blue

by Blue Blake

  “I’m nervous,” I said to Mocha.

  “Everybody’s nervous their first time, but you’re gorgeous and you’re going to be great.”

  “OK!” shouted Chi Chi. “Where are my actors?”

  We were shooting in a well-lit corner of the garden—Chi Chi sitting behind a TV monitor, the make up artist, Chris Green being a P.A., Mocha clutching his camera, the videographer, another P.A., the guy who owned the house we were shooting in, and the lighting guy—all watching and waiting for me to get hard.

  “OK,” said Chi Chi. “You’re trimming the hedge; you stop, pick up the drink on the table because you take a sip.”

  This was no problem and went without a hitch.

  “Now,” he continued, “you’re straight but the drugged drinks have made you faaaabulously gay, and Hunter, you pull down Blue’s jeans and start sucking his cock.”

  Wait!!! I wasn’t even hard! That was when I learned one of the first illusions of porn. We shot all the footage up to where Hunter pulled my soft dick out of my trousers.

  “Cut! OK, let’s let Blue get hard.”

  To my amazement, nobody cared I wasn’t hard. It happened all the time apparently. The crew began chatting amongst themselves, and I sat on a lawn chair and played with my dick and thought about Chris Duffy’s muscles. That did the trick and I stood up, fully erect. Chi Chi took it from there.

  “Stuff it back in your underwear, and then Hunter, pull it out and twang it up and down, then stuff it in your mouth and make sure there’s lots of spit.”

  The moment I put my dick back in my underwear I felt it going soft. Hunter pulled it out, but it wasn’t hard enough to “twang.”

  “OK,” said Chi Chi, “let’s let Blue get rock hard again.”

  This carried on for the next two hours until finally Chi Chi had all the footage of my hard dick that he was going to get. My dick felt red and sore from playing with it for two hours.

  “Next we’re going to get your facial expressions. The cameras are on your face. Now start moaning and talking to Hunter like he’s sucking your dick.”

  This bit was easy.

  “Yeah, man, suck my dick,” I moaned. “Man, that feels so good, your hot lips on my hard cock.” I felt ridiculous, but I had watched enough porno to know what to say. I wanted to make up for not getting hard very easily, so I threw myself into the performance. I realized it was actually very easy to moan and fake being serviced. It reminded me of how I used to treat some escort clients.

  “Fine, we’ve got enough of that, now Blue, on your knees and suck Hunter’s cock.”

  And of course, Hunter, being the professional he was, immediately went rock hard. I sucked while the cameraman maneuvered himself around me.

  “Spit on it, girl!” screamed Chi Chi.

  This had to be the most unsexual moment of my life, being screamed at to suck the dick of a stranger who I didn’t even fancy while the whole crew looked on.

  Finally, that scene was done, all that was left were the cum shots. A lot of models notoriously have problems cumming at the end of the scene. I was so relieved the scene was over; I came in two seconds. What a relief! My first scene finished, and as I was filling out my model release, I realized perhaps it hadn’t been as hard as I thought. I had made five hundred bucks after all.

  Hunter gave me a ride home.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t get hard.”

  “No problem. I hear everybody’s like that,” Hunter laughed.

  “But you had no problem.”

  “I’m always hard,” he grinned.

  He dropped me off outside my apartment.

  “Perhaps we’ll work together again!” He waved and drove off.

  I ran into the apartment.

  “How was it?” Gage asked.

  “Not too bad,” I said, feeling the five hundred dollars in my pocket.

  “Well, good,” said Gage, “because some really queer sounding guy called. He said his name was Crystal Crawford and he left an address for you to be at tomorrow morning. He said wear jeans and don’t jerk off tonight. Are you doing another film?”

  “It looks like it,” I said. “I’m having an early night. I’m exhausted.”

  And I was. I was absolutely knackered. Making porn was the most tiring thing I had ever done in my life for some reason. I suppose because of the mental and physical pressure of having to look and act sexually alluring when it was the last thing on your mind. I felt like I had run a marathon. I fell dead asleep and didn’t wake until I heard the alarm go off at 7 a.m.

  As I was brushing my teeth the phone rang. It was Zak Spears.

  “What happened to our dinner plans?” he asked.

  “Oh, my God, I’m so sorry, it completely slipped my mind,” I gasped. Zak laughed.

  “Don’t worry. I know what it’s like to do your first scene. What about this evening?”

  “Well, I’m doing a movie today as well. I think it’s going to be very big budget. It’s based on the Sharon Stone movie Sliver.

  “Who’s directing it?”

  “Crystal Crawford.”

  The line went quiet.

  “Hello? Zak? Are you still there?”

  “Just make sure you get paid,” Zak said, ominously. Him too. After what Mocha had said, I was on guard. I was definitely going to get paid.

  Gage had written down an address where the shoot was to take place. Amazingly, it was within walking distance of our apartment. I had agreed to have dinner with Zak that night, and he was going to pick me up at 6 p.m. sharp. So I had to be finished with the scene and be home by then.

  I looked at the address on the piece of paper: 1200 N. Crescent Heights, just above Santa Monica Boulevard. I arrived at an enormous pink apartment building and rang the bell and was buzzed in. This must be where Crystal lived. We were all probably meeting here to drive to the set I thought. Crystal had told me I would be having sex in an elevator, so the movie must have a big budget to build an elevator on the set.

  I knocked on Crystal’s apartment door and heard a dog yapping from inside. The door was flung open and there stood Crystal holding a tiny video camera.

  “Oh, good, you’re on time,” he said. “Come on in.”

  I walked inside the apartment, which was full of pictures of Crystal in drag. He wore huge blonde wigs and, as he was extremely bony, the wigs gave the illusion of eating his head.

  “Where’s the crew?” I asked. Crystal laughed. “Girl, I’m the crew. I believe in total artistic control, so I shoot the movies myself.”

  I looked at him incredulously.

  “With that tiny camera?”

  “Oh, it works fine, you’ll see.”

  I could feel my stomach knotting up. This was going to be a really cheap production, and I would be starring in it.

  “What’s the film called?”

  “I haven’t decided yet. Your co-star will be here in a minute and then we can get on the set.”

  I sat down, and a white fluffy dog leapt on my lap. It had the biggest bow I’d ever seen tied on its head and a diamante collar. I noticed that half the diamantes were missing and the dog needed a bath.

  “Who’s my co-star again?”

  “Fuck, you ask a lot of questions. His name’s Tanner Reeves, I told you . . . and he’s made hundreds of films.”

  Yeah, hundreds of cheap budget films, I thought, if he had knowingly agreed to work for Crystal. There was a knock at the door.

  “Here he is,” Crystal shrieked and flew to the door in a waft of Charlie perfume. The moment Tanner Reeves walked in I didn’t fancy him. Oh dear, this was two in a row. Perhaps I wasn’t cut out for porn. Tanner had a fake tan and too-white teeth. He reminded me of a lot of the guys I had seen floating around West Hollywood. This was going to be a long, horrible day, I realized.

  “OK,” said Crystal. “Follow me.”

  We traipsed out of Crystal’s apartment and into an elevator that headed down to the underground car park. As we climbed out of the el
evator, Crystal pulled an old stiletto shoe out of a bag he was carrying and jammed it into the elevator door.

  “What are you doing?” I gasped.

  “Jamming the door so we can shoot the scene here.”

  “We’re shooting the scene HERE?” I asked. “In the elevator? What if people see us?”

  “How can they?” said Crystal, “I’ve jammed the door with my shoe. Now take your cock out and let Tanner suck it.”

  I was a nervous wreck. There was no way I would be able to get hard. What if somebody came into the garage in their car and caught us? We would be arrested for indecent exposure! Crystal stood holding the tiny video camera impatiently, “Hurry up, we don’t have all day!”

  Tanner sank to his knees in the elevator and began stroking the front of my jeans. I closed my eyes and thought of Gage and Chris Duffy. There was a stirring in my loins. Perhaps I could get hard after all.

  Suddenly a piercing siren wail filled the air.

  “Damn!” said Crystal. “The elevator alarm’s been activated. Quick, up to my apartment before the building manager catches us.”

  The three of us ran madly up the stairs and dashed into Crystal’s apartment.

  “We’ll shoot the scene here,” he said.

  “Will it make sense within the movie?” I asked.

  “Who cares?” Crystal snapped. “People don’t watch these films for the plot. Now get your dick out . . . and it better be hard.”

  A long two hours later and the scene was finally complete. Crystal had even taken the photos himself of us fellating each other. As I was filling out my model release Crystal said, “Oh no, I’ve run out of checks, can I pay you tomorrow?”

  Warning bells went off in my head, but Crystal’s apartment was only a stone’s throw from my own. Besides, he wasn’t going anywhere, judging by all the crap he would have to move to disappear.

  “Sure, I’ll be here tomorrow at 1 p.m. sharp to collect it.”

  When I got home, Gage was waiting.

  “You’ve got messages. One from Zak Spears confirming dinner, one from Chi Chi LaRue . . . and one from Chris Duffy. How was the shoot?”

  “Fucking terrible,” I said. “What did Chi Chi and Chris want?”

  I knew Gage was impressed that Chris Duffy had called, but I tried to act nonchalant.

  “He wants you to call him, and Chi Chi left a message asking if we wanted to perform at the gay porn awards.”

  The Gay Porn Awards?!!! Perform?!!! I snatched up the phone and dialed Chi Chi’s number.

  “Now, it doesn’t pay anything,” said Chi Chi, “but it will be great exposure for you and your brother. You’ll be carrying Sharon Kane on the stage on a surfboard while she sings one of the nominated songs.”

  Who knew they nominated songs from porn movies? Who knew they HAD songs in porn movies?

  “The awards are being held at The Tomkat Theatre, and Sharon wants to meet you both first.” Sharon Kane was a famous female porn star. She was well known on the gay porn scene because she made a lot of the bi movies and she was always dating the straight guys who appeared in gay porn, the gay-for-pay guys. Rumor had it she would fuck them with a strap-on dildo to loosen them up for their screen debuts.

  “I’ll give you Sharon’s number, and you can all arrange to meet up.”

  “OK,” I said. “But Zak is picking me up at 6.”

  “Zak Spears? My Zak?” Chi Chi gasped.

  “Yeah. Didn’t he tell you? He’s taking me out for dinner tonight.”

  “No, he didn’t.” said Chi Chi, talking through what had to be clenched teeth. “Have a good time.”

  Sharon Kane came round to our apartment that afternoon. I liked her immediately. She had had a little too much cosmetic surgery on her face so her lips were massive but she was a fun girl. She told us she had a pet pig. Sharon was nominated for a song she had written and would sing it live. There was to be no rehearsal as the show was just two days away.

  The Gay Erotic Video Awards were started by a porn reviewer named Sabin, who published a small magazine that reviewed porn movies. The straight film companies had their own annual show in Vegas called the Adult Video News awards (the AVNs), but the gay companies had nothing . . . until now. There were to be various awards: Best Film, Best Actor, etc., but also strange subcategories such as Best Cocksucker and Best Cum Shot. It was of course going to be a freak show, but there was nothing I liked more than a two-headed monkey boy. Gage seemed indifferent but I knew he loved to flaunt his body so I wasn’t worried.

  That night I had dinner with Zak Spears. He turned out to be incredibly shy and thoughtful. He told me he had been bullied a lot while growing up because he was gay, and then he had gotten a job on a construction site where his fellow workmen had also made fun of him. This surprised me because on meeting Zak you would never know he was gay. Chi Chi had rescued him from all that and he was grateful for it. He told me he couldn’t believe how huge Gage was and asked if he could train with the two of us. I thought it was a great idea. I would get to work out with Gage, who was gargantuan, and Zak Spears, one of the most famous porn stars in the world. Jesus Christ, I was loving L.A.

  Gage was really easy going when it came to training partners and I knew he wouldn’t mind Zak training with us. Zak and I slept together at his place that night. The sex was unremarkable, and it felt like we were both there because we liked the unreal porn persona of each other. Zak’s bedroom was full of vampire memorabilia. He told me he liked vampires; he even had fake fangs lying around and Dracula playing on the television.

  Gage picked us up the next morning in his “pimpmo-bile” as I called it, and we went to Gold’s Gym Hollywood. Among all the models and actors I spied the model Fabio. I could never figure out if Fabio was gay or straight. I knew he was straight but there was something a little gay about him, his absolute adoration of himself, perhaps. Years later, a friend of mine, Amy, became his roommate. Apparently he was incredibly vain; no shock there. Once during a rainstorm he made her wedge sand bags under the wheels of his car to get it rolling out of the mud so he wouldn’t get his own hair wet. I never knew if this story was true because Amy like to exaggerate more than I did, but I laughed every time she told the story. Fabio nearly died during a roller coaster ride when a rogue goose smashed into his face in mid-flight. It was the talk of the gym and the main story on Entertainment Tonight that evening.

  While we were training, Gage said, “Chris Duffy keeps calling . . . you have to phone him back.”

  “Do you know Chris Duffy?” asked Zak, “He’s one of my favorite bodybuilders.”

  “Blue fucked him . . . on their first date.”

  “Well, it wasn’t exactly a date,” I muttered.

  I was incredibly flattered that Chris kept calling I but knew he was married so what the hell did he want? I called him as soon as I got back from the gym. I didn’t want to get involved with a married man but my flesh was weak.

  “Chris, it’s Blue.”

  “Blue, man, I thought you were going to call me.”

  I didn’t remember telling him I would call him but I shrugged it off.

  “Sorry, I’ve been really busy.” I had, with Zak Spears.

  “Listen, let’s get together again. I want you to meet my wife Joanie.”

  “Sure, how about this Sunday?”

  I was performing at the porno awards on Saturday night, but what the hell did Chris mean about his wife? Surely he wouldn’t bring her, and if he did, would I have to fuck her??!! I had fucked some beautiful girls, but I just wasn’t into it sexually, at all.

  “Great,” said Chris. “I’ll be there at 3 p.m. I’m really horny.” So that confirmed we were going to have sex again. I grinned from ear to ear. Who cared if he was going to drag along the old ball and chain? I DEFINITELY loved Los Angeles.

  Saturday night rolled around, the night of the Porn Awards. The Tomkatt Theatre was near enough to our apartment that Gage and I walked there. Neither Gage nor I were nominated becau
se we were just starting out in the industry but, being bodybuilders, we knew we would be the biggest guys there, so we dressed accordingly. We wore work boots, rolled down socks, cut-off denim shorts and no shirts, just baby oil (I’m blushing as I write this). We had tans and flattops and were muscle monsters. We arrived at the Tomkatt to a mob scene. Every porn star in America seemed to be outside the Tomkatt Theatre. The place was a dump, but they had laid out the red carpet, and fans had flocked to see their favorite fuck flick stars in the flesh. And there was plenty of flesh.

  I spotted my co-star, Hunter Scott, immediately, and the famous porn-star-turned-director/producer, Gino Colbert. Also in attendance were Jon Vincent, who I had fingered in San Francisco; tons of really bad drag queens; Matt Gunther, another famous porn star; Max Grand; Alec Powers; Michael Brawn; Rick Donovan. . . . The list of porn stars was endless, but no matter how famous they were, everyone ogled Gage and me. We were being handed business cards left, right and centre. I stuffed them into my shorts.

  Stars were arriving thick and fast. It was like a really, really bad version of the Oscars. Sharon Kane arrived with her boyfriend. She was dressed like the Malibu Barbie I had seen in Chi Chi’s apartment, with a huge flower in her hair and tiny miniskirt. David Forest, the infamous porn agent, arrived wearing a white dinner jacket and lots of diamonds; with a whole entourage of boys he represented flocking around him. He introduced himself to me and Gage. Then Chris Dickerson walked in. I couldn’t believe it. Mr. Olympia himself. He was just as big, black and incredibly handsome as the bodybuilding magazines had portrayed him. I was drooling like a Saint Bernard.

  “Close your mouth,” said Gage.

  “I have to have sex with him.”

  “You might not be his type,” laughed Gage.

  “I have to!” I shouted, completely unhinged. Chris Dickerson turned and looked at me.

  “You’re my favorite bodybuilder of all time!” I said. Hadn’t I also told Chris Duffy the exact same thing? I was turning into a total pro-bodybuilder muscle whore. I could see myself working my way through the ranks of the World Bodybuilding Federation . . . who would be next? Tom Platz?

  “I saw you and your brother in a movie,” Chris said. He had a very sexy deep voice, which seemed to rumble through my brain down my spine and into my hard cock.