The Dancer

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, and any resemblance it bears to real people or events is purely coincidental. This work contains graphic depictions of gay male sex, and anyone who does not meet the legal definition of an adult in his or her political jurisdiction must leave this work now. This work is being posted to the Nifty Archives. It may not be posted to any other medium without the written consent of its author.

The Dancer

Chapter Two

The school year ended shortly after Mike and Eric started dating, and I found myself with quite a bit of time on my hands. I still danced regularly at parties of one kind or another, and it seemed like I was making more money per engagement than I had before. Not only that, people at those parties started to look familiar, like I had entertained them before. That was only reasonable, I suppose, since word of mouth was the best ad agent. I was still working for Ben, and he was still only taking fifty dollars for each job. He told me I must be really getting good because there were so many requests for me by name.

One of the things that bothered me a little about my dancing job was that people usually took pictures of me, especially when I was naked. Some even had camcorders to record my act. It wasn't that I was camera shy; far from it, in fact. I just wasn't sure what those pictures and videos were being used for, other than, persumably, personal jerking off. I found out that summer, though.

With time on my hands, I finally got around to buying a decent computer and connecting to the Internet. I knew how to navigate the World Wide Web from school, but I discovered the newsgroups and IRC that summer. One of the things I discovered was that pictures of me were all over the Net. Most of the photos were polaroids that weren't all that clear, but apparently several of the guys who had shot pictures of me were professional photographers, or at least practiced amateurs. Those pictures were really good.

One Web site featured several videos of me. One was just of me dancing naked, but a couple were of me jerking off to the cheers of the crowd. While this might sound perverted, I actually turned myself on when I watched myself beating off. I was pretty hot.

I might have made a mistake by doing it, but I sent e-mail to the owner of one of the better sites. I basically congratulated him on his work and told him that I was flattered to be featured so prominantly on his pages. Before I knew it, I was getting e-mail from guys all over the world telling me how gorgeous I was, asking me to marry them, and all kinds of other shit. Many of them sent pictures of themselves. I was befuddled by all the mail and wondered how people had gotten my address.

"There are all sorts of ways people could get your address," Don said. "There's something called Four 1 1, which is basically a telephone directory for e-mail addresses."

"Yeah, but wouldn't they have to know my name to look me up?"

"Good point," Don said. "Have you sent any e-mail to any of those pages that have your picture on them?"

"Goddamn it. Yes, I have. Shit."

"That's how they're getting the address, then. Go back and look at that site to see what you find there."

When I looked at the page, not only was my e-mail address listed, but my real name was, also. Could anybody ever be more "out"? I worried about this out loud to Don.

"What difference does it make," he asked. "Your parents have known for years. All of our friends obviously know."

"Yeah, but the guys at school," I said.

"Well, if they're hanging around gay Web sites, what does that say about them?"

"Good point. I hadn't thought of that."

"Besides, what do you care about them?"

"Well, I don't care who knows I'm gay. I care about harrassment, though. But I can live with that, I guess. If there is any."

About two weeks after school was out, I got e-mail from a guy who called himself Dan Mallory. He said he was the producer of erotic movies, "geared primarily toward the gay community," and that he had seen my pictures on several Web sites. He wondered if I might be interested in an acting career. He gave a phone number. When I looked up the area code, I discovered it was for Atlanta.

I talked it over with Don and Mike and Eric. By then, Mike and Eric were an item, and we saw a good bit of them. All three of them said a phone call wouldn't hurt anything. They also insisted it had to be my decision. Don was encouraging.

"I kind of like the idea of fucking a porn star on a regular basis," he said. We all laughed.

The next day, I called the guy. He sounded young, no more than twenty-five, and he explained the kind of thing I would have to do. I wouldn't be the star of a movie right away, but I would get a decent amount of screen time. If the public responded well, there would be other roles in the future.

"I make like fifty films a year," he said. "I'm always looking for fresh faces, and, babe, you're about the freshest thing I've seen in three years." He told me he would be filming in New Orleans the next week, and he was hoping we could meet. In the meantime, he would send me some sample movies to watch so I could get a feel for the kind of work he did. That sounded pretty good, so we agreed to meet the following Monday. It was Thursday when I called.

The movies came the next day through Federal Express. Don, Mike, Eric, and I watched a few of them that night. We had never had any kind of group sex, but we did that night. The movies were hot, and we were all hard within the first fifteen minutes of the first movie. We fast forwarded through some of the boring plot stuff and just watched the sex. After three movies, we were all naked, sucking and fucking one another on the living room floor. It was quite a night.

On Monday, I met Dan in his suite at a downtown hotel. There was another guy with him--Ed was his name--and there was camera equipment and movie lights all around. After we got acquainted, Dan made us each a drink. It was only one o'clock in the afternoon, and I had three gigs that night, but I drank my drink anyway. Dan said he wanted to see my "stuff." I wasn't sure what he was talking about.

"He wants to see you naked," Ed said.

"Oh. Sorry. I'm kind of new to this movie business, and all."

"No problem, Brian," Dan said.

I got naked, as instructed. Dan examined me very closely with eyes and hands. He was as interested in my ass as in my cock. He loved the nipple rings, and he thought the tattoo was perfect.

"Would you mind doing a screen test for us," Dan asked.

"No. I'll do it."

"Are you a top or a bottom," he asked.

"Either one," I said. I did know what that meant.

Dan dialed a number and told Chip to come on over.

"I want you to work with Chip. He's a hunk, and he's pretty experienced."

When Chip got there, I thought the term "hunk" was a bit of an understatement. The guy was absolutely gorgeous. About 5'10", maybe 160 pounds, dirty blond hair, smooth skin, and a smile to die for.

Ed and Dan set up the lights, camera, and sound equipment. Dan told me to put my jeans on, and he had Chip take off his shirt.

"You guys are sitting on the sofa watching a porno. You both get hard and kind of rub your own cocks a little. Brian, you play with your nipples, too. When you're both hard, you kiss passionately and then have sex. I don't usually give any more direction than that because I like to see how creative you guys can get. Remember, too, this has sound, so take full advantage of it."

Dan then actually popped a video in the VCR and turned it on. It was pretty hot, and, before long, Chip and I were hard. We kissed, as Dan had told us, and then we took each other's pants off. I was wearing briefs, but Chip was bare-assed under his jeans. In no time, we were writhing in each other's arms on the sofa. Before long we were on the floor in a sixty-nine. Eventually, we ended up fucking one another. I had seen enough porno movies to know they had to have a cum shot, so I pulled out of Chip's ass and shot my load onto his chest, just as he ejaculated, too.

"Whooa, dudes. I'm so fucking turned on I want to get off with you guys," Dan said.

He joined us on the floor, along with Ed, and the four of us had an orgy. Ed had left the camera running on a wide angle lens, so he got that on video, too. By the time we finished, I was exhausted and glistening with sweat and cum.

"Why don't we shower up and come back to watch the fun," Dan suggested.

Chip and I went to one bathroom, and Dan and Ed went to the other. I half expected something to happen in the shower, but it didn't. Chip was really friendly and had a great sense of humor, but he made no moves on me, nor I on him. We finished our shower quickly and dried off in the bathroom. Our clothes were out in the living room, and modesty hardly seemed necessary at that point. We all met in the living room naked. Dan made more drinks and got out some nuts and cheese and crackers and shit to munch on. Everybody but Ed smoked, so we all lit up as we settled in to watch the videos.

"Now this is raw footage. It's gotta be edited and fixed up," Ed pointed out.

I was amazed at what I looked like on the screen. My cock looked bigger than I thought it looked in the mirror, and Chip had to struggle to get it all in his mouth. In fact, he only took about half of it. His cock was very nice, but it wasn't more than six inches. I had swallowed it easily. The butt fucking scenes were hot, too. As we watched, we all developed boners.

After the first video of Chip and me, Dan got up to make fresh drinks.

"Nothing for me, thanks. I've got to work tonight, and working means getting hard. I'm afraid if I drink any more I'll disappoint my audience."

They all laughed, but I was dead serious.

"In fact," I said, after checking my watch, "I'm gonna need to be out of here in a little while."

"Well, how'd you like doing it," Dan asked.

"Fuck, man. It was great. I had a ball." They laughed at my unintentional pun.

"I can use this material in a video, if you'll sign a release. I'll pay you, of course."

"Cool. Go ahead. Where do I sign?"

"You are eighteen, aren't you," Dan asked.

"Yeah. I'll be nineteen in October."

"You got a driver's license with your official birthdate on it? I need to make a photocopy of it."

I gave Ed my license, and he went somewhere to copy it. Meanwhile, Dan pulled some papers out of his briefcase. They basically were an affadavit that I was at least eighteen, that I had done the stuff on video of my own free will, and that I was willing to have it included in a movie or movies that Dan's company would produce. There was stuff about royalties and residuals. I had heard of that, but I wasn't sure what it meant.

"It means you get a percentage of the sales of any movie you're in," Dan said.

"How much do you think it might be," I asked.

"If you do ten movies a year, you should make about $30,000.00. That's about right, isn't it, Chip?"

"Yep. You make about three thousand per movie per year, for about five years. Then the sales taper off."

"And all I have to do is the kind of thing we just did," I asked in disbelief.

"That's it, man. Sometimes it'll take a couple or three days to get a movie finished, but that's about it."

"I'm still in school. Will that be a problem?"

"Naw. Most of our younger guys are in school. We can work around that. Do it on weekends, vacation times, and so on."

This sounded too good to be true. I quickly signed on the dotted line, and Chip signed as a witness to my signature. They gave me a copy of the agreement. Ed came back with my license, and Dan gave me five one-hundred-dollar bills. I hadn't expected to get paid on top of the other stuff.

"This is standard pay for a day's work in the industry," Dan said. "We usually issue checks so we have a paper trail for the IRS, but we'll just pretend this was practice. Can you work again tomorrow?"

"Oh, hell, yeah," I said. He told me where to meet them and what time to show up.

"I think we're going to make you and Chip the principals in this one. You two look so fucking hot together. Plan on working every day this week, okay?"

"Sure, man. No problem."

After I got dressed and was ready to leave, I shook hands with all three of them. Chip slowly rubbed my crotch and gave me that wonderful smile. "Welcome to porno, B," he said. "I'm looking forward to a whole lot more of that monster of yours."

The heat outside the hotel was overwhelming. It was nearly five o'clock. My first gig wasn't until eight, though, so I had time to go home and have a little nap. I got my car out of the garage and drove straight home. The traffic was awful, as usual, but I managed to get home in thirty minutes. I wrote Don a note to let him know I was taking a nap, and then I hit the bed.

I woke up around 6:30, and Don was in the den having a drink. He offered me one, but I opted for coffee instead.

"Well, how'd it go," he asked.

I told him every detail I could remember. He was genuinely impressed by the agreement I showed him and by the money they had given me.

"I knew you were a good fuck, but I didn't realize I had the best," he said.

I laughed.

"What the fuck are you laughing at," he asked in a serious tone.

"You're teasing, right?"

"Hell, no, I'm not teasing."

"You know that I love you, don't you," I asked. "This stuff can't ever come between us. I'll live on my parents' allowance before I let that happen."

"Babe, I know you love me, and you know I love you. I'm so proud of you I could bust, and I truly do want you to work at your jobs. This won't ever come between us. It just won't."

"We've got time for a roll in the hay, if you're up for it," I said.

"I thought you'd never ask."

I cleared $500 that night, which brought me in at a thousand for the day. That wasn't bad. Don was asleep when I got home. I took a few minutes to look at my financial records before I joined him. Since January 1st, I had earned right at $80,000. I had almost all of it in a savings account. I made a mental note to talk to Don about investing that money. Then I hit the hay. It was only midnight, but I was exhausted.

The next morning I woke up when Don did. I wanted to make love to him, and he was more than willing. We showered and shaved together, got dressed, and had coffee and cigarettes before he left for work. I didn't have to be at work until eleven, so I decided to nap on the sofa. I made sure I set a timer for ten o'clock so I wouldn't be late, but I was wide awake by nine.

I was bored. There wasn't anything worth watching on TV, and I didn't feel like playing with the computer. So, I decided to work out on the Soloflex Don had bought a few years before. My workout didn't last long, but it had a wonderful effect on my appearance. I'm pretty well developed in the muscle department, and a workout always pumps me up and really emphasizes the definition of my cut body. I showered again and decided to put on some of that non-greasy cream that bodybuilders use for shows. That gave a slight sheen to my skin, and it really made the muscles stand out.

I wore a tanktop and very short cutoff jeans to the studio Dan had rented. I knew I wouldn't have clothes on much that day, and what I wore really didn't matter. Or so I thought.

"Jesus Christ," Dan said when he saw me. "What the fuck happened to you?"

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Your body, man. You are soooooo fucking pumped up."

"Is that good?" I was genuinely confused by the guy's reaction.

"Is it good? It's perfect. It's wonderful. It's fabulous. What the hell did you do?"

"I was bored, so I worked out on a Soloflex. That's all."

"Well, you do that every time you come to work for me. Chip, look at this guy. Can you believe how buff he looks?"

Chip was only slightly less enthusiastic than Dan was. After Dan left us, Chip said, "What the fuck did you do that for, man? He's gonna want me working out, now."

"Sorry, dude. I was bored. That's all."

"I'm teasing, man. I do work out, but not with the kind of results you get. What did you do?"

"I just used a Soloflex. That's all."

"Well, it fucking worked, man. You look good enough to eat, which I will be doing before too long."

We both laughed.

We were ready to start by 11:30, and the taping went about how it had the day before. The only real difference was that the crew was larger. In addition to Ed, there was another camera man, a sound man, and a lighting man. It didn't bother me to "work" in front of those guys, and it damn sure didn't bother Chip. We kissed and sucked, rimmed and fucked, jerked off and humped each other's cracks. You name it, we did it. There were no rehearsals and only minimal direction. We were method actors in the truest sense of the word.

We finished the day at three. Dan paid each of us in cash, and he told us where to report the next day. We would be outside, which was fine with both of us. This time he gave each of us a script, that was maybe twenty-five pages long. He told us to read them but not memorize them. He preferred for the dialogue to be spontaneous.

"What are you going to do this afternoon, Chip? You got any plans?" I didn't have anything to do, and I thought maybe he and I could get better acquainted.

"Not a goddamn thing," he replied. "What about you?"

"Nada, dude. You shoot pool?"

"Oh, hell, yeah," he said. "Want to go somewhere and play a while?"

"Yeah. I do. You got a car?"

"Naw," he said. "I flew in from Atlanta, and I took a cab from the airport. No car."

"Well, come on, man. Let's go shoot some pool."

I drove us to a place called Wallace and Raoul's on Elysian Fields, not too far from where we lived and on the same street as my high school. It wasn't crowded at all that Tuesday afternoon, and we got a table immediately. I didn't have to work that night, and we didn't have to be at work until eleven again the next day. We got a rack of balls and beers--ice cold drafts for fifty cents a piece. This was one of those great blue-collar places that dot New Orleans. It was a pretty good neighborhood restaurant on one side, a pool hall in the middle, and a bar on the other side.

We played Eight Ball, which was the standard game in New Orleans. Chip was pretty good, but I was better. We played for an hour or so. Then we switched to darts. A guy I knew from school came in with a friend of his I didn't recognize. I saw the friend eye us pretty good, but Chip, if he noticed, and I ignored them except to say hello.

After a while, the boy I knew called over to us. "Hey, Maxwell, you guys want to shoot some pool?"

"You want to," I asked Chip.

"Sure. Who's that guy? I think he's gay. In fact, I think they're both gay."

"What makes you say that," I asked.

"Gaydar, man. Ain't you got it?"

"Yeah, usually."

"Well, crank it up, dude. These two are as gay as we are."

We introduced each other. I knew Tommy Wagner but not his friend, Jackie Simmons. I introduced Chip. I suddenly realized I didn't even know his last name.

"Wilson," he said. "Chip Wilson."

We shot a game of Eight Ball, and Chip and I lost. Tommy and Jackie weren't all that good. We more or less threw the game to see if they would take the bait. Chip and I hadn't discussed it, of course, but we knew intuitively these guys could be hustled.

"Shit, guys," I said. "I'm shooting like a fucking blind man. Let's play another game. We'll beat your asses this time."

We won the game, but only by one ball. We set that up to appear to be pure luck, too. We started a third game.

"I've been checking out the Internet this summer," Wagner said. "I've been finding some very interesting sites."

"Oh, yeah? Like what," I asked innocently.

"Well, this site with some really cool .wav files, for one thing. Really funny. And I found a few sites with pictures of naked guys. I recognized one of the guys. He goes to school with us."

"No shit," I said, acting surprised.

"Yeah. And he's really hot in the pictures."

"Was it me," I asked.

Wagner was dumbstruck. He didn't know what to say.

Jackie jumped in. "Yeah, he looks just like you. Is that really you?"

I looked at Chip and grinned. Then I looked at Wagner. "You like sites like that, Wagner?"

Wagner didn't know what to say. Then, suddenly, "I need some smokes. I'll be right back."

"Yeah. We like sites like that," Jackie said. "We look at them together and jerk each other off."

"You guys jerk off to my pictures, man?"

"Yeah. You're pretty fucking hot, Brian. You've got to know that, man."

"Thanks, dude."

Wagner came back packing a box of Marlboro Reds against the palm of his hand. He opened the pack, took one out, and fired it up. "Whose shot," he asked.

"I think it's yours, Tommy," I said.

This kid was pretty hot himself. He was wearing a tee shirt and long jeans, but I could tell he was nicely built. He was also about half hard, judging from the bulge in his crotch. He took a very hard shot and missed.

"You guys want to put something on this game," I asked.

"I don't have much money," Tommy said.

"What about blowjobs," Chip asked.

"What the fuck did you say," Wagner demanded.

"Blowjobs. You win, we blow you. We win, you blow us."

"Shit, I ain't no fucking queer," Tommy said. He took a deep drag on his cigarette and blew the smoke in our direction.

"They know we're gay, Tommy," Jackie said. "I think we should do it. Take their bet, I mean."

"Jesus Christ, Jackie! You're outing me, now?"

"We knew, Tom," I said. "Chip knew even before he met you. Gaydar, he called it."

"You won't tell, will you, Brian?" Tommy was begging.

"Shit. Tell what? 'Oh, yeah, did y'all know Tommy Wagner is just as gay as I am? Yeah, he likes to look at my naked pictures, pictures of me jerking off at gay parties, on the Internet.'"

Tommy laughed when I said that. "I see your point, man." Then, "Ok, you're on. Losers blow winners."

"Losers have to take it in their mouths, but they don't have to swallow, if they don't want to," I said, clarifying the rules. That was something we always did on bets.

"You're on," Tommy said.

The game took on new meaning at that point. I lit a cigarette, chalked my cue, and proceeded to run the table. Nobody after me got a shot.

"Goddamn, Maxwell, you're a fucking hustler," Tommy said. I just grinned.

"Are you guys gonna pay up, or what?" Chip asked that question.

"Yeah, we'll pay up," Jackie said, "and I want you, man."

"Cool," Chip said.

"I guess I get you, Maxwell."

"Are you okay with this, man," I asked him. I didn't need a blowjob at that particular point in my life, and I damn sure didn't want to force anyone to do it.

Tommy laughed. "Brian, I have fantasized about doing this for two years, man. Yes. I'm okay with this."

I reached up and ruffled his hair. He was kind of cute, this guy. Funny I hadn't ever really noticed him before.

Finding a place for our pay-out was the next order of business. We decided to take our chances in the men's room. It was fairly early in the afternoon, and the bar was empty. In fact, we were the only customers in the whole place. We decided that would work okay, if there was a lock on the door. And there was.

Chip and I stood side by side against the wall. Tommy and Jackie got down in front of us with their backs to a trough urinal. They knew pretty much what to do. I had on 501 cutoffs and no underwear, so Tommy had no problem getting to my goods. He popped my soft cock into his mouth and started working it. He seemed to know what to do with an uncut cock, and pretty soon he had his tongue under my skin, washing my cockhead with his saliva. I started to get hard.

"Goddamn, Maxwell. This is a fucking telephone pole you got here, man."

"Yeah, and you fucking love it," I said.

He laughed.

He couldn't take all of my cock into his mouth, but he did a damn good job on the part he got in. He was obviously an experienced cocksucker. He knew to play with my balls and to suck on them now and then. It wasn't the greatest blowjob I ever had, but it was far from the worst. I reached my hand up under my tanktop and played with my right nipple. That accelerated my orgasm, and, in less that fifteen minutes, I was pumping my cum into Tommy's mouth. He swallowed it like a trooper. I had an eye on Jackie, working on Chip, and he was good, too. Chip came right after I did.

We were all pretty worked up. Tommy had a hard-on from hell tenting out his jeans, and I wanted to show him I was a generous man. I made him stand up. I popped open the buttons of his jeans and sucked his cock into my mouth through the fly of his boxers. Chip saw what I was doing, and he did the same to Jackie. Those guys didn't last very long, and, within a few minutes, they were both pumping heavy loads into our throats. Tommy's cock was nice but not all that big, so I was able to take every inch of it into my mouth. His cum tasted a little like marijuana. I had always figured him for a toker, and that pretty much confirmed it for me.

When all four of us paraded out of the john at the same time, the bartender, a young guy not much older than me, made a crack about bets being hell to pay off. He winked, and I winked back.

Back in the pool hall, we all kind of slumped down in chairs.

"You guys didn't have to do that, you know," Tommy said.

"We know," Chip replied, "but we wanted to. You guys were good sports about the whole thing. Plus, I think Brian and I just like to give blowjobs."

Everybody laughed.

Just about then my pager went off. I checked it, and it was Don. I excused myself to call him back. He said he was really sorry, but he had to work late that night. Their main server was down, and the hospital had to have it up as soon as possible. He didn't know what time he'd be home.

"That's cool, man. You know that," I said.

"What are you going to do," he asked.

"Well, I might go out with some friends."

"Great! Have a good time." Don had always worried that I spent too much time with him and his friends and not enough with guys my own age. He was genuinely pleased I had some guys to go out with.

"Oh, by the way," I said. "Chip, the guy I'm acting with, is staying in a hotel by himself. Would you mind if he stayed with us a few days?"

"Hell, no. That's what guest rooms are for."

"Great. I'll see if he's interested."

We said our goodbyes and hung up. Then I went back to the pool room where the other guys were.

"That was my man," I said. "He won't be home until real late. You guys want to do something tonight?"

"I've got to work tonight," Jackie said. "But otherwise, I'd love to. Maybe another night?"

"What about you, Tommy? You busy?"

He looked at Jackie for approval, I guess. When there was no objection, he said, "No. I'm not busy. We can hang out. In fact, that would be fun."

"Chip, is Dan paying for your hotel," I asked.

He shook his head "no."

"Then why don't you stay with us. We've got a guest room. That way you could make a few extra bucks."

"Oh, man, I don't want to put you to any trouble."

"It's no trouble. The bed's already made up and everything."

"Well, if you're sure I won't be in the way..."

"Hell, I wouldn't have asked you if I didn't want you to stay with us."

"Well, sure, then. I'd love it."

Jackie checked his watch and said he had to be going. We shook hands with him. We made plans to meet up with Tommy around seven right back there at Wallace and Raoul. I figured we could eat there before we went out.

Chip and I went back downtown to his hotel to get his stuff and to check him out. Then we drove to our house. Don had bought the place a couple of years before I moved in with him. It was a nice three-bedroom, two bath place, with a living room, dining room, kitchen, breakfast room, and den. I gave him four hundred bucks a month to help with the house payment and for my share of the utilities. We took turns buying food and shit like that. My parents gave me a thousand a month to live on, which was more than enough to take care of my living expenses. All the money I earned was mine to do with as I liked.

Don and I slept together, of course, and we used one bedroom as a guest room. The other bedroom was the computer room. Needless to say, Don, the computer scientist, had an awesome system, and he had encouraged me to buy a really good one, too. We had three phone lines into the house, one for voice and one each for our computers. That was an extravagance, probably, but we could afford it.

"Goddamn. This is a nice house," Chip said when we went inside.

"Thanks." I showed him his room and where the guest bathroom was in the hall.

After Chip had put his stuff away, I got each of us a beer, and we settled in the den.

"Tell me about yourself, Chip," I said.

"Like what," he asked.

"Well, like how old you are, where you're from, whether you have a boyfriend. That kind of stuff."

"Hmm. I'm twenty-one. I've been in college for the last three years, but I'm going to take a year off and earn some money acting and modeling and stuff. I grew up kind of all over. My old man was in the Air Force, so we were never in one place very long, as I guess you know."

"You got a boyfriend?"

"No. I've never had one, either."

"Are you out to your parents?"

"Yes, unfortunately. They caught me with another kid when I was a week short of high school graduation, and my old man kicked my ass out. I don't even know where they are right now. Where they live, I mean."

"That's tough, man. Shit."

"Well, at least the motherfucker isn't beating me anymore. He used to like to see how deep he could bury his fist into me, from time to time. When he caught me with that guy, I thought he would beat me close to death, but he didn't touch me. He spit at me. He actually spit at me and said, real controlled like, 'Get the fuck out. You ain't my son.'"

"Where did you go," I asked.

"Well, I stayed with my friend until I graduated and then a couple of weeks after that, too. Then I just took off for Atlanta. We were living in Macon at the time, and there wasn't anything there for me. I got a job waiting tables in a restaurant. I lived in my car for about a month until I had enough money for an apartment, an effeciency that only cost $300.00 a month, including utilities. It was a shit hole, but at least it wasn't my car."

"So how did you meet Dan," I asked.

"A couple of the guys I worked with were gay. Lovers, in fact. I started hanging out with them some, going to clubs, movies, that kind of thing. They were going to move and asked me if I'd be their roommate. I moved in with them, and we started hanging out even more. One night I got a little drunk at a gay club, and I entered a strip contest and won. Dan was in the audience and asked me if I would work for him as a stripper."

"Hey, that's what I do, man. Not in a club, though. Just private parties."

"Yeah, that's what I did, too. Then Dan and this friend of his, Marty, decided to try making some porno movies. They asked me if I'd like to try being in one, and I said yes. So that's what I've been doing. What about you? What's your life been like?"

I told him about being born in New Orleans. Both my parents were doctors, but they moved to France when I was two. I grew up there until I was thirteen, when we moved back here. I told him they were in Afghanistan now, teaching and running a clinic in some godforsaken mountain town for Physicians International. It was only a two-year gig, and then they'd come back here and resume teaching and practicing at Tulane Medical Center.

"They wanted me to finish high school here. I go to a pretty swanky all-boys Catholic high school."

"High school! You're still in fucking high school?"

"Yeah. I'm going into my senior year."

"How the hell old are you?"

"Eighteen. Nineteen in October." I told him about being put back a grade when I moved from France because my English wasn't as good as they thought it should be.

"Do they know you're gay," he asked.

"They've known since I was fourteen. That's when I first started having sex with guys. Actually, I've had sex with a number of women, too. That's sometimes part of my job."

"I've never done that, and don't plan on it," he said. "Are you and your guy in love," he asked.

"I'd say so. Yeah."

"He doesn't mind all the sex you have with other people? Like with me, for instance, or those two guys this afternoon?"

"Nope. In fact, he encourages me to do things with friends my own age. And he sees his friends, too. Now and then we get caught up in a three-some or even four-some."

"Wow, that's awesome, man. You have a perfect setup."

"It ain't bad," I said, and grinned. I checked my watch. "You want a shower before we go out? I do."

"Is that an offer," he asked.

"If you want it to be," I said, coyly. "But we gotta hurry so we can be on time to meet Tommy."

We took a shower together, and I showed him what docking was. He had never done that before, and he loved it.

"Goddamn," he said, right after he had come.

"One of the many advantages of a foreskin," I said, as I held the head of his cock inside my skin. Cum was leaking out, and my knees felt weak from the intensity of my climax. Chip was weak, too.

We finished our shower, and he stood there watching me as I shaved without a mirror. He asked to borrow my razor, and he shaved that way, too, apparently for the first time. When he had finished, I rubbed my hand over his face to find places he had missed, and I used the razor to get him completely smooth.

He started to put on jeans for the evening, but I recommended shorts and a tee shirt. We were in New Orleans in the summer, and jeans would be way too hot for a night on the town.

We met Tommy at Wallace and Raoul's right at seven. He was wearing shorts and a tee shirt, too. We ate at Wallace's and planned the evening. Chip had never been to the French Quarter, so Tommy and I volunteered to show him around. We popped into a few clubs, including a couple of gay ones, to buy drinks, but mostly we walked around, talking and watching the people. We went into some shops and the Ripley's Believe It Or Not museum. We ended up at Cafe DuMond for coffee and doughnuts, a traditional way to end a New Orleans evening in the Quarter.

"This place is much better than Atlanta," Chip said. "I just wish it wasn't so fucking hot."

"Let's go up on the levee," Tommy suggested. "It's usually cooler up there."

We walked the fifty yards or so to the steps up the levee. Chip hadn't realized the Mississippi River was so close to us, and he marvelled at the lights on the river. Tommy had been right. It was a good fifteen degrees cooler by the river.

We sat there for a while. Finally, Tommy asked, "How do you guys know one another?"

I was a little hesitant to tell him about my recent forays into the porn video industry, but Chip forged ahead with the information.

"Damn," Tommy said. "How long have I known you, Brian," Tommy asked.

"I don't know. Three years, I guess. Why?"

"Cause not once did I ever think you were anything but the straightest arrow in our class. You hide it well, man."

"I don't really try to hide the fact that I'm gay, Tom," I said. "It just doesn't ever seem to come up, is all. Besides, I've been with girls, so I've got real stories to tell when the occasion presents itself."

"You have? Damn."

"Well, not like with a girlfriend. But I'm a stripper, and sometimes I fuck the guest of honor, or whoever, when I do a show for women. I get paid more for doing that."

"Maxwell, I'm not believing you," Tommy said.

"Oh, it's true," I said.

"No. I believe what you said is true. I'm just flabbergasted that you would do that kind of thing. What do your parents think?"

I explained about my parents' knowing I was gay and about their being out of the country. Tommy was completely taken with my situation.

After fifteen or twenty minutes of sitting on the levee, I suggested we go back to my house for a swim. We had a great pool, and, if ever a night called for a swim, that one did. Tommy had left his car at Wallace and Raoul's, so we drove him back there to get it. He followed us to my house. Don still wasn't home, although it was close to midnight. I got us beers, and we went out onto the patio.

"Tommy," I said. "Can you spend the night?"

"Sure," he answered. "My parents know I sometimes stay out all night or sleep over at Jackie's house. No problem."

"Great," I said. "We don't have to be at work until eleven, so we can stay up a while longer and hang out."

As we were lounging on the patio, having our drinks and smoking cigarettes, Don came home. I introduced him to the other guys.

"I'm surprised y'all aren't in the pool," Don said. "That's where I want to be."

Don stripped down to bare skin and dove in. The three of us followed suit. Pretty soon we were rough-housing in the pool, all stark naked. We played for a while, and Don got out. He asked me for a massage, and I was only too happy to honor his request. Tommy and Chip got out, too, and Tommy started giving Chip a massage. It wasn't long before all four of us were hard. And, when you get four horny guys hard and naked all at once, the inevitable happens. We ended up in a mini-orgy. It was two o'clock by the time we were ready for bed. Tommy slept with Chip, and Don and I slept in our room. I didn't hear any noise from their room, and they didn't hear any noise from ours, except for Don's light snore.

Don was up and gone by the time I woke up at ten o'clock. He had left a note in the kitchen saying how much fun he had had the night before and that Chip, and Tommy, too, for that matter, could stay as long as they liked. Don had made coffee but hadn't turned it on so it would be fresh when we woke up. I turned on the Mr. Coffee machine and went and woke up the other guys. They got dressed right away and made the bed. I felt guilty about not making ours, so I went in and made it up. I put on the clothes I had worn the night before, and we assembled in the kitchen by 10:15. We drank a cup of coffee and smoked a cigarette each. Then I told Chip I thought it was time for us to go.

"Damn, I wish I could go with you guys and just watch," Tommy said.

"Well, hell. Come on," Chip said. "Dan won't mind. He might even give you a part."

As it turned out, that day was "plot day," the day we shot the inane passages of dialogue that would raise the movie from obscenity to pornography by giving it some "redeeming social value." I finally knew what the story was about by the end of the filming. Chip and I were young lovers who, while innocently minding our own business, were taken hostage by a gang of sadistic bikers. They would kidnap us in an idyllic country setting and take us to a place where we would be made to be their sex slaves until we were rescued by Dan and Ed, our older and wiser friends. There was literally no sex that day, except for the odd grope, which could have occurred on the fifty-yard-line at any football game. Tommy was disappointed, but he was also fascinated, as I was, by the technical aspects of making a video.

"I'm not sure what's going to happen tomorrow, guys," Dan said. "I need to find a country cabin or house or something where the abduction can take place. Any of you have any suggestions?"

"My parents own a place across Lake Pontchartrain," I said. "It's not a farm, but it's sixty acres of piney woods. There's even a small river that runs through it. The house is a log cabin type building. Do you think we could use that?"

"I knew I liked you, Brian," Dan said, grinning. "It sounds perfect. How long will it take to get there?"

"Oh, forty-five minutes. An hour, if the traffic's bad," I said.

"I think you just saved my life," Dan said. "Is there a barn or any kind of outbuilding on the place we could use as a dungeon?"

"Well, there's a cellar," I said. "That would probably work."

"Oh, man, I could suck your cock for that," Dan said.

I almost asked him what was stopping him, but I thought better of it.

We worked out the details, and, indeed, he offered Tommy a part as one of the bikers. Tommy had turned eighteen just days before, so he was fully legal. Dan signed him to contract right on the spot. Apparently, he had been able to recruit three other guys in one of the leather bars who were honest-to-God bikers, but he needed a fourth. Tommy hadn't shaved in a couple of days, and Dan instructed him not to shave for the next day, either. He told him he'd need some tattoos but that the make-up man would take care of that the next day.

The summer rocked on with me making three more films for Dan. Tommy and I got to be quite good friends, and Chip became a regular member of our household. Dan decided to move his video business to New Orleans because, as he said, "that's where the talent is."