You Tell the Story

[tampa24]

A 10? You have to be joking.
You need your eyes tested. I don’t see how anybody could be fooled by this dribble.

The whole pretence of a guy’s wife sending him to a porn studio and to do gay porn of all things - ridiculous.

Another thing what gives you the right to speak for all the members. Who made you the lord & master?

raysvqxyzabc69181

You are so right dude!

Ice is hot and all. And Shane outdid himself. After that cumshot I'm surprised they didn't have to call the paramedics to administer an IV. He coated that whole futon with his man juice. Got some of the wall behind him, and even managed to hit Ice in the face.

After Shane's orgasm he must have gotten some cum in Ice's eyes because the mascara was running down Ice's face like Tammy Faye Baker. Or were those real tears? For being "straight" Ice sure knows his way around a cock. And an arse. Why do they even bother making up these stories about him being married? Puhleez! Don't insult our intelligence.

Ice married to a woman. That's a good one! The only kind of woman Ice is married to is one who has to use duct tape down there to flatten out all the lumps. Does he ask his "wife" to shave the hair around "her" nipples too? Give me a freakin break.

Ice is so hot he almost melts. And I admit that he is pretty butch. Even when he's deepthroating Shane's dick so deep that he's licking Shane's balls. But I mean, come on! He's as queer as a 3dollarr billl. Damnnn stickkyy keyboarrddrf. I neeed tto go washhp myy hhandss....

 

[slimvintage]

The next thing I knew the other guy put his dick head on my ass hole and...

...I was off that couch like an Olympic runner off the blocks. Wowowowowowow!!! Fuck. Fuck, that hurt. The side table with the lube and the rubbers got tipped over, I hit my head hard on the side wall of the set, the guy with the dick, still kneeling on the bed, was laughing his ass off, and Tyler was coming in closer and closer with his big Hasselblad to get material for a report on Pain.

David told me to get back on the bed, that we were going to do it right this time. I hadn't even got the name of the dude with the humongous dick, and surely doing it right included proper introductions. "Vin Bianco," I said, holding out my hand.

"Mort Blattz," said the guy with the dick, "and listen, I'm sorry about that. I guess you haven't had much experience."

"Hey Mort what's up dude, nah, newbie here, hehe. Yeah, me too. Yeah I mean sorry everybody. Sorry about that. Hope that table's ok." But I was looking at Mort and his amazing dick. The dickhead looked like a pattypan squash, with a sort of a scalloped outcrop around the rim. It was fascinating and hot. And his eyes, they were soulful and mischievous at the same time, and tipped down at the corners. And his bod was just like mine except for the little patch of hair on his chest. David was restoring order, Tyler was back behind the cam sight-line, "OK, Mort, back were you were. Boris, you know what to do once Mort's fucking Vinnie yeah? And Vinnie, sorry, he's gonna take it really easy this time. Oh, and as you know, Boris is Shane, and Mort is Diesal, in case any names get used during the shoot."

"You're Diesal??" I cry. Mort nods his head and flashes about twice the normal number of front teeth. "...and your real name is Mortimer Bratz?"

"Blattz, Blattz, Blattz, not Bratz."

"Holy shit Diesal, I mean Mort, put her there, man I'm a fan for sure."

"Get on the futon guys," says David, his patients wearing thin. "Spread his cheeks Mort, help him with the lube, put your dick in carefully this time, start slow and build up some speed, when we've had that hot slapping sound for a coupla three minutes I'm gonna tell you to turn him over on his back. Boris, that's when you get in with your stiffy. Let Vinnie have it as far down his throat as he can take it. He likes the taste so that's one thing we don't have to worry about. Let's get going, I'm hungry as fuck and we're running 45 minutes behind."

The lights go up to full strength, I'm back in the position. Just before David says "Quiet!", Mortimer/Diesal leans over me. I can feel his soft chest hair on my shoulder blades, "So you're a fan are you, Vinnie. How about that?" My dick is hard as fuck in a nanosecond, and Diesal's got it in his hand. "Fuck me!" I shout, and David barks, "Stop that Vinnie. You don't say fuck me for another 4 shoots you putzhead."

I whisper to Mort, "Fuck me, OK?" And he does, just like...

 

[parisnoyd]

David says to Eddie, " Ok, we gotta pick another model to be Vinnie's prequel. Kid went from zero to 60 in 4 seconds. Damn! Those last 2 guys drilled him and he LOVED it."

Eddie mentions JIMMY.

"Fuck no, Eddie! I'll put them together later in the week while they are both here, but we gotta step back a bit here. Once that hot pocket gets a hold of Vinnie, he'll be wearing a dress when he leaves here!"

Eddie says "How about bringing CJ back?"

"Fuck no Eddie! If I do that I'LL get banned from the Forum!!"

David lowers his voice " Where are Shane and Vinnie now?"

"Shane went to visit his Grandma. She's not feeling well. Vinnie's hangin' in the Green Room"

"Good boy, that one, but try and keep him away from Vinnie, if you can."

"Eddie, I can already see Ms Kiana losing her mind when we post the JIMMY/Vinnie vid!" Ha! Ha!

"Why don't you just tell her JIMMY is back?"

"I like torturing her!" They look at each other and both BWWWAAAAHHHAAAHHHAAA!!!

David wipes a tear from his eye and says "Hells Bells! I knew that Vinnie was gonna be trouble! Is Logan still in the Green Room?"

"Yes he is, David."

"Would you please go get him, Eddie? Tell him I've got a special project for him. I'll pay him double if he can pull this off." Eddie says "Ok."

David mumbles to himself "Logan should be able to put the straight boy back in Vinnie. I hope................"

 

[slimvintage]

"...we can get come credible footage out of him, otherwise I'll have to put all this stuff on BTS as blooper material. Oh hi, Orville! Just hanging with Vinnie in there, yeah?"

"Yeah,"says 'Logan', "It's a mindblowing experience talking to him on several levels. He's preternaturally perspicacious in regard to the existential apocalypse he's traversing at the moment. I find that hot in a contradictory way...his insight into the universality of his experience, devolved to the personal level, solipsism if you insist. He's been making me take on board some home truths about myself which despite a certain capacity for introspection I've been resisting for ages, metaphysically speaking of course..."

'Logan' winds down and looks dreamily at David. "Have you picked up some of that about him too?"

"I've noticed some stuff like that. Who wouldn't? But we can talk in greater depth later. For now I gotta ask you another favor Orville. The forumites always get at me for wasting you on second echelon Brokies. You know that, yeah?"

Orville assents with a nod and a twinkle.

"This time he's not second echelon, and the challenge is like huge...I need you to put some hetero back into Vinnie. He acts straight enough, but he overenthuses in the face of a hottie, and it's filming badly, it's unconvincing, and stuff like that."

"OK," Orville says. "but I gotta say, I'm really captivated by him myself."

"We're gonna do the No dude, I'm Straight, I'm Not Doing That Fag Shit scenario with him. You know how it goes. We start out with the Welcome Back spiel, yeah? and go into the I've Brought You Guys Back To Do More Stuff To Make More Money spiel, right? And then we go into One Of You Guys Is Gonna Have To Get Fucked. Clear so far Orville bro, you're with me?

"I'm with you to a degree, but essentially not liking where you're taking me," Orville grumbles ruefully. "You said I had to do you a favor, right?"

"Orville, 'Logan' is gonna have to take a hit for the team dude. Vinnie has to say on film that he ain't doin' nunna that fag shit when I tell him he's bottoming, and you are gonna have to save the day by consenting to 2 and a half grand to be shafted by his big uncut putz."

"I wish..." muses 'Logan'

There's a moment's silence. David hands Orville the Fleet pack he's been holding behind his back and...

 

[Ms. Kianna]

Orville headed to the bathroom muttering something about these scenes not being scripted and not having to lie about how much money they make. the last thing he said before the door slammed was "two and a half grand, my ass."

Meanwhile, Vinnie is still in the green room contemplating the last 48 hours and where to go from here.

"What the hell are they going to throw at me next and what the fucking hell am I going to do if anyone I know see's this shit?" As I pace this damn room, I keep wondering who chose this terrible shade of green, and why none of his top models have complained about it. As I take my next spin to make yet another lap across the room, none other than Jimmie walks in the door.

"Dude, I really thought that you were going to be arrow straight. I guess looks are indeed deceiving." Jimmie says as he flops onto the couch.

"I was sure I was arrow straight, but what the fuck, he's thrown every one of Broke Straight Boys's members favorites for hot sex at me before I can even take a breath. Everyone is making "fuck me eyes" at me, grabbing my cock, and I don't care what a guys sexual orientation is, when someone takes hold of his dick it wakes up." I'm getting really worked up, and my pacing is almost a jog. "If he'd throw me some pale, skinny, 15 year old looking, twinkie guy, I'm sure I could play arrow straight for you, because God Dammit I Am!"

 

[slimvintage]

Jimmie shifts a little deeper into the sofa, his scrawny, twinky ass squnching down between the two cushions. "Could Kianna be meaning ME?" he muses. "I mean, does Vinnie mean ME?" he re-muses. "Dude," he says, "no one who prefers one shade of green on a wall to another, is straight. Just take that on board for a start. And if you really get exercised about it, it means you need to take out a monarch card."

Vinnie wasn't listening, "Monarch card?"

"Membership in the Queen Brigade."

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing. How old would you say I looked Vin? Give or take 18 months?"

"Fifteen? Sixteen?"

"It turns out you and I are in a scene tomorrow hottie. He's throwing a pale, skinny, 15 year old looking, twinkie guy at you buddy, to prove you're arrow straight. Think you can do it?" Jimmie shifts his scrawny ass on the sofa again and lays his arm across the back. "Come here Iceman, and sit down next to your buddy. Let's do a run through so there are zero surprises when Dave starts the camera rolling tomorrow."

"Man, great. Cool. You I can handle dude. It's that guy Mort Blatzz who just fucking morphs my whole brain bro. Yeah, hey, make a little space there Jimmie. By the way man, what's your real name?"

"Les, short for Lestor."

"My youngest uncle on my mother's side is Les!! But he spells it differentl..." Vinnie's lips pull back at the corners, ready for the "ly", like saying cheese for the camera. And are softly, sweetly, firmly sealed by Lestor's, whose breath is a sexy waft of mint and marlboro. Vinnie slumps like a dead weight into the sofa back like the protagonist of a snuff movie, his chiseled jaw tipped up to take the full onslaught of a tender guy kiss from a skinny twink.

"What the fuck do I do with my hands, I'm arrow straight?" But the moment takes over and he cups the back of Lestor's shapely cranium with his left, while sliding his right around the tight torso pressing against him. Lestor seems to be ceremoniously drinking from a coconut, his hands on either side of Vincente's jaw. He draws his legs up and kneels on the sofa, rolling Vinnie back onto the far couch arm. Vinnie is cooperating. Careful not to disturb the point of contact, he lies back in slow motion, spreading his legs to make room for Lestor's.

Neither knows the state of the other's dick, but as their bodies meet to the tune of Holst's "Mars", it becomes immediately obvious to both of them that there are some major impediments to their getting their hips any closer to one another.

"Dude. You've got a huge boner. That puppy is on it's way out from under your waistband fella, and it's all icky and wet. Disgusting. God, I just hate foreskins."

"What about you you crazed midget. You look like you have a three dollar baguette from the Franco Virginia Bakery in your pants.This isn't gonna work man. I mean if my dick disgusts you we won't be able to do the arrow straight shoot tomorrow. Maybe if I hide it right out of my UnderArmours, so no one sees the extra skin..."

"Hide it? Where, for fuck's sake are you gonna hide it you goon?"

"In a nice place that's very very dark," says Vinnie, coy and menacing, pulling the skinny twink back into lip and groin interface mode.

"Ewwww," mumbles Lestor, Vinnie's wet, skin covered willy pressing into his abs, Vinnie's lovely lips pressing against his pretty wet mouth.

"Let's just get you out of this teeshirt fella, with the tank on it. And out of those cute jeans. I just love those jeans Lestor. Where'd you get 'em dude? Come on tell me, I won't get exactly the same, I promise..."

 

[lovelumps]

A sharp rap preceded the sudden opening of the door to the green room, but the boys on the couch were oblivious, wrapped up in each other as they were. “Ahem…,” barked David loudly. Vinnie slowly eased his way out from under Lestor’s lithe body, as Les grumbled something about David’s impeccable timing. Rising to his feet, wet cock head sticking out the waistband of his pants, Vinnie ran his hands through his hair, then down across his face, trying to gather his composure. “Vinnie, you and Logan are due in the studio in 10”, David admonished. “Logan is prepping in the john down the hall, and I need you to get yourself ready, and I don’t mean your dick... looks like Les, here, has already taken care of that part. Sheesh, your lips are so swollen it looks like you had a collagen injection….” “OK, sure, I’ll go get ready…, um…, what exactly do you want me to do?” “Well, Vinnie, since we don’t know who is going to top or bottom in the scene yet, haven’t settled that yet between you and Logan, I’m just going to have you get ready for anything, how’s that sound?” Vinnie flushed a deep pink and reached for the package dangling from David’s fingers, turned and walked out of the room, muttering under his breath. David turned and quirked a brow at Lestor. “You’ll have your time on the futon with him tomorrow. How is he supposed to look straight as an arrow for his shoot with Logan if he looks like he just spent the last hour making out with a Hoover? No one will ever believe this, damnit!” Then David spun on his heel, took the two steps to the door in one long stride, and slammed the door behind him, leaving Lestor standing there with a bemused expression and a semi.

 

[Ms. Kianna]

Vinnie walked down the hall and into the room he had slept in. My head a swimming and I could just use some time alone. He leaned up against the wall behind the door and slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor. He putt his head on this knees and started to think of home. Before he knew it, he was asleep. Everything else could wait.

David got redder and redder as he sat in the studio with Eddie and Logan. "Where the hell is Vinnie? We're wasting valuable filming time." He paced the studio one more time, before grabbing his cell phone and dialing furiously. "Damn, damn, damn, where are you!" David dials another number and turns his back to everyone. "Tyler, Vinnie is a no show in the studio, go find him, or you're on the futon with Logan."

 

[Ms. Kianna]

Two minutes later Tyler walked in the studio door.

“No,” Tyler said, almost as if he was disgusted with the whole process. “Eddie, you go find the newbie. You could talk a semi full of dynamite into rear-ending a Ford Pinto. I just don’t feel like dealing with another emotional crisis.”
“And what the hell am I going to do with a fucking hour of wasted studio time, Mr. Fancy Britches,” David snarled from behind the Panasonic. “It comes out of your pay check.”
“You know David, why don’t you take a chill-pill and turn on the camera. Logan and I will give you your money’s worth – say fifteen hundred each – two thousand if we turn you on.”
“Bull shit.”
“Turn the camera on.”
“It’s on, goddammit.”
Tyler walked over to the futon where Logan had stretched out to take a nap. His long legs reached just far enough to cross his ankles up on the armrest and his bare feet, the long tapered, graceful arches, and slender toes, just protruded from the ends of his levis. His dark hair rested on his crossed hands and his eyes peered lazily from under his excruciatingly silky black eyelashes. He was so calm that his bare chest barely moved, only once, just along the treasure trail, a slight tremor gave away that he was watching Tyler’s approach.
Tyler lifted his arms and lifted the navy blue polo over his head. He grinned in Logan’s general direction and dropped the shirt behind his back as he stepped closer. So slender were his hips that it only took a slight tug to drop his jeans and the weight of the massive buckle carried them to the floor. He stepped out of them and reached down to undo the button at the top of Logan’s fly. Almost as if swatting that fly, Logan’s hand struck. It landed atop Tyler’s and held it still. Tyler smiled and bent toward Logan’s still dreaming expression. Ever so gently Tyler took his tongue and flicked it across the bridge of Logan’s nose and then, as if kissing him to sleep, placed his lips lightly on each of Logan’s eyes.
Logan’s chest rose, he inhaled. Tyler brought both his hands to Logan’s face and using his tongue to open Logan’s mouth, kissed him deeply. Logan’s hand quickly unfastened the button on his jeans and then came to pull Tyler’s head close. They kissed deeply.
Tyler rose, walked to the end of the futon and pulled on the levi legs. Logan arched his back and the trousers came off. He was naked. His erection stood, waiting. Tyler took a rubber from the end table, stripped the foil wrapper from it, put it in his mouth, climbed in between Logan’s legs and lowered his head to the stone hard dick. Pushing his head down onto the shaft and using his teeth and lips, he unrolled the rubber along the shaft. Logan moaned, gasped, arched his back, and Tyler sat back on his haunches and smiled. The rubber was in place and Logan’s eyes were wide with need.
Tyler tossed him the lube, stood up, removed his underalls, and climbed onto the futon. “David,” he said, out of the side of his mouth, with that cocky grin that could break hearts and mend fences, never taking his eyes from Logan’s, “how many tricks do you suppose Annie Oakley did when she road Buffalo Bill?”
From behind the camera a zipper could be heard.

 

[slimvintage]

Even though the question was rhetorical, David tried to get his vocal chords together to make some kind of answer. After all, 'his voice is an integral, and more to the point, crucial, element in all Broke Straight Boys videos':

"You boys have been here before, you're among the members' favorites--except for Diesal and Austin who beat you losers out for top slots--so I'm just gonna let you go to it and just hold, uh, just hold...the camera." None of this in fact got said, his voice had turned into a croak, the result of a sudden overdose of metabolic testosterone, triggered by the mention of Annie Oakley.

Tyler bent again over Logan and whispered in his ear, "This is your revenge mister. Who fucked you that day we filmed for the pink sheet auction? Do you remember that fuck? How much you had to pretend it hurt, how you had to hide the pleasure?"

Tyler had edged up and was now straddling Logan, softly stroking his rubberized dick, whispering to him in between tiny random kisses that brushed the supine boy's face and neck, "...and this time will be no different. I'm going to fuck you again fella, really hard, with my ass..."

Tyler's lips sought Logan's again and kissed him with urgency now, guiding the other boy's erection with his hand. As he impaled himself on Logan's dick, his own feverish, throbbing cock--dribbling precum down the shaft and into his pubic hair, spurt by spurt as he rose and lowered his hips, his thrusts catching his own pleasure point time after time--pulsed and swung, slapping his abs, careening off his thighs, sprinkling prostatic fluid over Logan...

...who now responded, pushing his pelvis up in perfect unison with Tyler's downward roll. They had drawn away from each other and Tyler now sat upright, eyes fixed on Logan's, neither gaze wavering for even a nanosecond, Logan's hands on Tyler's thighs, Tyler grasping Logan's wrists. Fucking wordlessly now in perfect coordinated communion. And each watched the other for a sign.

Finally Logan closed his eyes and raised his head an inch, the signal Tyler needed. Without a stumble in the rhythm, he lowered his head and devoured Logan's waiting mouth. There was a groan, a long vulpine growl, and the sound of heavy panting in 4/4 time. Someone in the room had had an orgasm, but the two boys, unaware of anything but each other, and the living bridge joining their quivering bodies, continued to fuck and fuck, until...