
 
PORN  STARS

By Pete Brown     petebrownuk @ yahoo.com

Read all of Pete's stories at groups.yahoo.com/group/petebrownseroticstories

Part 10

TEN YEARS LATER

I found my old "story", that you've been reading, whilst going through some old school stuff in mom and dad's attic.  I edited it slightly to make sense of where my teen-age prose went a bit wrong.  Steve and Joe thought that my written English wasn't good enough, and so made me write a chapter of my history every two days.  They were right, as usual - just the discipline of sitting down to write a long piece every day did do wonders for my English, and gave me a new attitude to work.  If it hadn't been for their intervention that day, I'm sure I wouldn't be where I am today - I wouldn't have stayed on at school, I wouldn't have gone to University, or made the tidy fortune I'm now amassing.

Now that I've discovered again the pleasure of writing autobiography, I'm tempted to carry on and describe all the things that happened to me in these past ten years.  But I am exceedingly busy, and will, I think, confine myself to just an outline - in my dotage, I'll come back to these papers and fill in the fine detail:  I'll be living on the memories then, as the pleasures of the flesh will long have faded!

Well, I stayed on at school, although Steve and Joe told me to move to a sixth form college, where the people were more mature.  I had a real problem in doing so, as I had been marked down as a "no hoper", but my teachers were soon impressed by the amazing progress I made across s the board - they were always talking about their new teaching methods, but I knew it was simple terror of Steve and Joe's punishment that drove me on.

Did they hit me again?  Yes, they did - in the first year, about five times.  But when  I got to university, it was only once - they thought I was spending too much time drinking, and Steve decided to be reminded of the work ethic.

I made about four films a year at that time - initially just with Steve and Joe, but gradually they introduced me to other members of their "set" and they were happy to let me perform with other actors, too.  They made sure I got paid "proper" fees, and, with the royalties, by the time I went to university I had a tidy little nest egg.  

One of the films I made at that time is, interestingly, still a best seller, especially in the USA.  Steve and Joe advised me against doing it, but when I started to argue, they just shrugged their shoulders and said I had to learn the hard way.  I wondered what they meant - it seemed to be a pretty simple plot: a fictitious rape of a young guy by a bigger, stronger older one. 

When I got to the studio for the filming that morning I was surprised to find we were going to do it in the bare room I'd first been filmed in, without the usual tangle of camera men and sound people around.  "It's got to be one smooth, first-time take", the Director explained, "And all those other people just get in the way."

So saying, he left, and my fellow "star" came in - he was at least six foot seven and very heavily muscled.  He was jet black, and as he stripped off his clothes, I saw he had the biggest cock I'd ever seen, and this was mounted on top of very low hanging balls about the size of quail's eggs.  He was muscled everywhere - not with those overdeveloped bodybuilder muscles, but lean and defined.  As he stripped his clothes off, his skin shone under the bright lights as he was already covered in a sheen of sweat.  I don't know if he shaved his body or if he was naturally smooth, but there was nothing to mar the perfection of his musculature - he just stood there, flexing and stretching, and I was in awe of it all.

He hardly said anything, but came over to me and literally ripped my clothes off.  I thought we'd spend some time, as you do, getting to know each other and lubing up and so on, but I soon realised that this "fictitious rape" was going to be a real one - he picked me up and literally threw me onto the bed, and the next moment was trying to thrust himself up me, with no lube or anything!  I started to shout, telling him to stop, and he just laughed and carried on. I tried to stop him. I struggled and hit him and fought as best I could, but he was so big, so strong, so powerful that he complexly overwhelmed me.  The more I struggled the more he seemed to enjoy it, and he slapped me once or twice if I showed signs of giving in too soon (I suppose he knew they needed a lot of footage for the movie, because of editing).  His cock was stabbing at me, and soon made its way in - and then I had the most brutal, the most painful, the hardest fucking I've ever experienced.  

They say that one of the best sound tracks on any DVD is on that one, and several of the critics ask how it could be that it sounds so realistic - well, I can tell you!  It was for real.  This was no pretend rape, this was a real one, as I did everything I could to try to stop him.

As I said, it still sells well, especially in the USA - I guess it's their thing about black men raping young white guys, that's a special turn-on over there.

Afterwards I was furious - I was hurting, and could feel blood trickling from my arse.  But the producer and the "star" just laughed, told me to bend over, examined my hole and said there was no permanent tearing.  

That night, as I sat with Steve and Joe, I was shifting uncomfortably and complaining.  I went on and on about being raped, how bad it was, how the fucker had really hurt me.  They listened for a few minutes and then Steve had his say.  

"Look, Ray, it's not the end of the world.  You've had a lot of cocks up you now, and you'll have a whole lot more.  So you didn't want this guy to do it - so what?  He was bigger, stronger and more virile than you, so he fucked the hell out of you and you didn't like it.  Well, tough - that's the way of the world.  Strong men always have their way over weaker ones, and it's just that you're usually used to being one of the strong - it does you good every now and then to remember that there are more powerful guys in the world.  And it's not as if a 'rape' actually does any harm, after all, as long as he didn't tear your sphincter - you'll be sore for a couple of days, and then you'll be fuckable again as usual.  So stop griping.  And, remember, Joe and I did advise you against it.  You need to learn to accept responsibility for the consequences of your choices."

So I shut up, and just had to watch them at play that night without being able to take a full part - although Joe did let me fuck him, after Steve had.

It was whilst I was at university that I found another source of funds - although I had the money from the films I'd made, I wanted a nice place to live and not some grim student lodging.  I'd been browsing the Internet one day and seen all these "Escorts" advertising themselves, so I put a notice up on the bulletin board and waited.  Unlike a lot of the guys who were timid and didn't want to show their faces or anything, I was used to exposing my body now and so I posted a full body and face picture of myself.  I also said that I was a 20 year old aggressive top, and that and man hiring me should expect to be fucked out of his brains!  

When I started my story I'd had a young, athletic body, but I'd filled out now properly - as well as insisting on me doing well academically, Steve made me work out regularly, and it had really paid dividends- my neck had thickened and strengthened, I had those biceps you only see on young, strong guys who work out, and my bum was tough and muscular.  My thighs were lean, and could pound away for hours on the running track (or power my body up and down for ever, as I fucked!).  So my photo was, I guess, pretty exciting - especially as I chose one of me with a full erection, with my thumb just skinning back my foreskin to reveal my moist cock head.

There were some real cheap guys, who tried to bargain a low price as I was "just a student", but I always held out for full "London rates" that I'd seen elsewhere.  And, of course, I always gave excellent value for money - even though I really didn't fancy 99 percent of the men who paid me, I always fucked them hard and long and, more importantly, I was always polite and cheerful - it was amazing how many men screwed up their courage to pay for sex, then got scared at the last minute.  I guided them through it all, made them feel relaxed, then fucked the hell out of them!  I got a lot of repeat business.

All the time  I was at university I still was making porn films, and my fame was spreading - I started to get top billing.  By the time I left, my earnings from escorting, and from my porn work, found me tolerably well off - I didn't spend any of it on drugs or anything, as I was so proud of my body and didn't want to do anything to ruin it.  

I never made any secret of my homosexuality at university, and a lot of guys tried to date me, but I never accepted.  I got all the fucking I wanted with the men who paid me to do it, after all, and, frankly, I just didn't fancy guys the same age as me.  Once you've experienced real men like Joe and Steve, it spoils you for out of condition, thin weedy blokes.  So I had a relatively lonely time socially - but that gave me lots of time for study (and, remember, I needed to do really well as there was always the threat of a beating from Steve and Joe when I went down to London to stay with them for making a film).  

I also gave up football, but joined the college rugby union team - that was much more of a man's sport, and I was able to work out some of my aggression on the field.  Initially some of the blokes on the team didn't want to go into the communal baths with a "faggot", so I needed to sort them out - I knew a thing or two about how to use my body, after all, as I sometimes needed to teach a little lesson to a client who refused to pay at the end of the session!   By my third year, though, they'd all accepted me and I was one of the key players - big, tough, strong, and rough as you need to be for Union.  No one ever mentioned anything derogatory about queers or fags now, and I like to think I did my bit for spreading some common sense about it amongst my team mates.  In fact, at our annual dinners, I did a 'turn' that brought the house down - in front of all the men, and their wives and girlfriends, I stripped off completely and did a sketch about how most men don't know how to wank properly!  It didn't embarrass me at all, of course, as I was used to doing this sort of thing in public, but it was pretty radical for the social club we were at just outside the university town!  Several of the guys after that asked me to "remind" them of a few points, and I used to sit on the edge of the communal bath and show them.  No one ever complained about getting some of my cum shot over them, or of it making those little threads in the communal bath water - I don't think I was that scary, but then, no one really wanted to find out.

A couple of clubs wanted me to turn professional after I left university, but I didn't fancy it - it would mostly have meant living up North, and I was eager to get back to London.  Steve and Joe were keen for me to get a job with a big company, and I had a lot of offers as I had a "first", and was seen to have all the sorts of qualities they were looking for - captain of the team, and all that crap.

Unlike most blokes of my age, I had enough for a deposit on a decent flat, and bought one just down the road from Steve and Joe - smaller, but new, and with a river view.  It was really hard to convince the Building Society to give me a mortgage, as I had no "visible" sources of income, but I noticed that the manager of the Branch I went in to was unusually interested in me.  As we talked, I sprawled a bit in my chair, opened my legs, and let my hand gently stroke my crotch.  He couldn't take his eyes off me, so I got bolder, and asked him if he knew of any good pubs in the area, as I was new there.  It was the end of the day, and we ended up going out for a drink - and from that it was really easy to get him to take me home, and for me then to fuck him.  As we lay in bed afterwards, and he was cuddled up to me, relaxing as blokes do when they've just had the best fuck they've ever experienced, I told him that if he was one of my clients, that would have cost him!  We laughed, as I explained to him the mechanics of escorting, and pointed out that he ought to be able to judge that I was one of the best in the business, and could easily earn enough to cover the mortgage.  The following day I got my money from the Society!.    

Of course it all build, one thing on another.  I was now so well known as a porn star that I could charge a lot more for an escort session - a lot of blokes want to think they've experienced the "real thing" after they've seen it on  the screen.  But all of this is not how I really made my pile - sure, it pays the bills, but it didn't make me "wealthy".

One night I'd just fucked a client and, as I usually did, we lay there chatting.  I think that's one of the reasons why I get a lot of repeat business - the clients appreciate me treating them as "people" and not just as arses to fuck and wallets to pay from.  This bloke asked me if I ever bottomed, and of course I told him no.  But as he had shown no sign of wanting to top me, I was curious as to why he asked.

"Well it's just that our American CEO is coming to London this week and his PA has told us - discreetly - that he enjoys a little man to man action when he's safely away from the Westchester Mansion, the wife, and the kids.  I'd really like him to have a good time, and I know that you'd be perfect - but he's the big chief, and I know he'd want to fuck, and not be fucked.  Could you recommend someone, someone like you - big, handsome, courteous, sensual -  but a bottom?"

I thought about it a bit, and decided to cheat.  So I told him that I'd arrange it with "a friend of mine."

I couldn't believe the fuss there was about this CEO - most of my clients just turn up at my flat, or I go to their place. They decided he'd rather have an out-call at his hotel, then they said that he might not want "an escort" turning up at the hotel - as if you could tell!  So I suggested that I went around to their offices, dressed smartly, and took him to the arranged meet.

I'm not a suit man and never owned one, but I do know how important appearances are - after all, it's my basic stock in trade.  So I went and bought a really expensive BOSS suit, a couple of fine shirts in Jermyn Street, and an expensive Hermes tie, as I'd seen all the bankers wearing.   They were all super clothes, but on my tanned, lean, muscular body they looked sensational.  As I walked through the streets I was conscious of people turning to look at me - well, some men do all the time ,of course, but this was a whole lot of people.

To my amazement  "the office" turned out to be one of the 50-story HQ towers at Canary Wharf, and at reception I was redirected to a special reception area "for the executive floor".  It was all extremely plush - an a special express lift whisked me up to the 40-something floor.  This guy evidently was a real power in the world. 

A most elegant woman asked me if I'd like coffee, and apologised for the boss being a few minutes behind schedule.  I realised this was all very high level - she was his secretary, but she had secretaries of her own!  I was interested in seeing this slice of corporate life, and wondered if this is how I would have ended up if I'd entered it from university as Mike and Joe had wanted.  Everyone seemed to be well dressed, and calm and unhurried.  But I thought I looked a lot better than all of them!

Finally, I was ushered in to a huge office, and there was an ordinary guy, in his mid-50s, I'd guess, sitting behind a desk engrossed in papers.   He worked away, signing things, as I stood there patiently.  Then he looked up.

"Sorry to have kept you.  I'm sorry - I don't think we've met...."

Perhaps he'd forgotten about our appointment, or perhaps my appearance - perfect executive - fooled him.  

He was reaching out his hand in greeting, and I took it, but gripped his wrist and, to his surprise, moved his hand down to my crotch and let him feel my cock under the thin material of my suit (I'd not worn any underwear, as usual).

He looked almost startled!  I carried on, moving his hand over me a little against his resistance - I could easily overcome the token effort that he was putting up.  My cock sprang to life, and I knew he could appreciate the power and size of it.

"I'm Ray", I said, "Your escort for this evening.  Do you like what you feel?"

He mumbled something, and I went on "Why don't you call your senior secretary and tell her you've decided that my meeting with you will take a long time, and that they can all go home, and that you want complete privacy now?"

He picked up the phone, and did as I had asked.  

I moved around to the same side of the desk as him and started to kiss him.  I pushed his jacket off his shoulders, and did the same to mine.  I let my trousers drop to the floor so that I was standing there in only my shirt, and pulled his hands down to fondle my cock and balls.

"No, not here!" He started to say.

"Why not?  It suits me!"

I remembered something that Steve had told me once about all men really wanting to be taken by a big powerful man.  This guy, I knew, spent his whole life ordering things around, and I'd been told he wanted to top a bottom.  But now I was going to try to put Steve's idea into practice - I intended to fuck this guy.  

So I moved to take complete control, and basically pushed him to his knees in front of me.  I could see he was almost panicking, but the moment I slapped his face with my stiff cock, he seemed to calm.  I teased his lips with it, and curtly told him not to dare touch it until I said he could.  I continued to slap his cheeks and tease his lips with my cock, and I could see that he was almost mesmerised by it, so I changed pace, and told him to open his mouth and put out his tongue.  I then skinned back my foreskin, and gently touched my moist cock head to his tongue, sliding myself very gently in and out.  

He shut his mouth and started to suck me, so I gently slapped his face - very gently, just a tap really, as I didn't want to leave a mark. 

"No!  Don't you dare!  You only get to suck this cock when I give you permission.  First, get to your feet and strip for me."

He rose and stood looking at me.  "What are you waiting for?  I told you to strip - now, get naked!"

I saw him start to undo the buckle on his trousers, and I knew I had him.  Steve was right - he did secretly want to be dominated.

Once he was naked I too took off my tie and shirt, and stood in front of him.  I took his right wrist in my hand, and made him move his hand all over my torso and stomach, feeling my rock hard muscles and my big, hard nipples.

He was moaning softly. I encouraged him:  "Yes, you like that, don't you?   Now - you've earned a little reward - on your knees again, and get my cock in your mouth.  I want to see if you've learned anything about how to give blow jobs from any of the guys who've given you one."

I increased my control over him by holding his head and forcing him to take more of me into his throat than he wanted, then pulled out.  He reached greedily for me again, and tried to carry on sucking me.

"No - not too much!  This cock is reserved for that arse of yours.  I need a fuck."

"No, I don't take it...."

"You do now!"

As I said this I swept the papers off his desk, pulled him to his feet, and pushed him backwards onto the desktop.  I fell on top of him so that he could feel the weight of my muscled body all along his, and started to kiss him passionately whilst tweaking his nipples and wanking his cock. I could tell that he was completely overcome with passion - he'd never had a man treat him like this before, simply flooding his body with sensation, and he was running his hands along my back in ecstasy.  I don't suppose he'd ever cum so quickly for many years, and it was only a couple of minutes before my hand was sticky with his ejaculate.  As he watched, I brought my hand up to my mouth and licked his cum from my fingers, then at once thrust my head down again and kissed him - I just knew that this was the first time he'd ever had such a delicious cum-filled kiss, and I prolonged it by exploring all his mouth with my tongue.

I'm usually very careful about fucking guys with a condom, but I felt OK about this guy - married, rich, only a top (and I guessed too scared to bareback), and with the best medical attention money could buy.  So I didn't break off to get a condom out of my pocket, but proceeded to lube him with his own cum, then coat my cock with that which remained, and went at him.

He must have been fucked before - I don't believe all tops can ever just have fucked and not been fucked.  After all, there were no aggressive assertive tops more aggressive and assertive than me, but Joe and Steve had fucked me.  But for him it was just as if it was his first time.  I knew I couldn't do my normal rough fucking, so went ever so slowly and gently - I had his legs on my shoulders, so I was able to look down at him as I slowly pushed my way in, then slid myself in and out oh so calmly.  He was looking at me - that's odd, as most of the men that I fuck have their eyes closed.  So locking my eye on his, I reached down and tweaked both his nipples, quite hard.  His back arched and he gave a little cry of surprise, and I built on the sensation by just thrusting that little bit extra hard, so he grunted with the unexpected and delicious sensation.

I gradually built up until I was thrusting in and out at a fair pace, and he was responding with little gasps of excitement and pleasure.  I don't need to fake it, as some escorts do, as with so much practice (especially doing porn films, when the director often wants you to "cum to order" as he frames a particular shot) I can almost control when I shoot. So when I judged he had had enough, I let myself ejaculate and fell forwards on to him so he could feel my hot sweaty body.  He was in some different place - he was moaning, and running his hands almost out of control over my back, and I started kissing him again to prolong his pleasure.

Finally, I stood up, and pulled myself slowly out of him.  He had an executive washroom off one side of the office, so I strode over and cleaned his shit off my cock, then came back with some lavatory paper and wiped his arse of my cum and his shit where it had flowed out.  I don't expect he'd had anyone wipe his are for him since he was a kid  Then I went back and washed my hands, and came back and pulled him to his feet.

"OK?"

"Amazing!"

"You usually top, don't you?"

"Yes. I like to be in control."

"Well, here's a tip from me, that I've found with a lot of clients - sometimes it's even more relaxing to let go.  With the right guy in charge, even a top can enjoy getting fucked occasionally.  But be sure to choose a REAL top, one who can really take charge."

"Anyway ", I continued as I started to pull my clothes on.  "Did they say anything about my fee?"

"Oh... I thought that was all arranged..."

I grinned at him, and said "Well, I usually don't give credit, but this place looks pretty secure - I guess it's unlikely you'll go bankrupt before I get paid!"

He was smiling now, and said "Can I hire you for the evening?"

"I usually tell men they can't afford me for more than an hour - I don't come cheap, you know - I charge four times the usual rate as I'm so well known from my movie work.  But in your case, I think that probably doesn't matter.  However, I've enjoyed coming to see corporate life, so I'm going to waive any further fee.  Let's go out and eat just as two men together, I won't charge, and you won't pay - we'll even split the bill, so we're equals!"

"That's the best offer anyone has made me for a long time - you're a real man.  Most of the other men I ever meet work for me, or want something from me.  They never say 'no' or disagree with me.  You're the first guy for a long time who's dared to be his own man with me, and I respect you for that."

He'd finished dressing now, and we looked like two executives - he the older, sophisticated, CEO, and me the up and coming thrusting junior.

"I'll call my car, and get him to take us somewhere for dinner", he went on. "My staff will have made reservations somewhere."

"No - I'm tired, and I don't want to eat out.  Forget the car, we'll walk to my flat and I'll rustle us up something."

As we walked out of the building there was a TV crew in the lobby who wanted to interview him for the next morning's breakfast TV show's financial slot.  I don't suppose that most of the viewers who saw the handsome guy standing in the background as he gave a perfectly crafted "off the cuff" interview realised that I'd been "on camera" many, many times before!

We had a great evening - he really liked just eating the spaghetti and sauce I threw together, and a couple of beers, as he said he was tired of constantly eating in hotels and restaurants.  He told me that even when he was at home in the USA he never got to eat in his house - there was a constant round of business dinners, receptions, and so on.  As we sat on the sofa after eating, we'd kicked our shoes off, taken our ties off and loosened our belts.  

"Tell me about yourself, Ray."

"Nothing to tell, really - I work hard, I enjoy my work.... "

"No - your parents.  Pretty rich, to buy you this place, aren't they?"

"They didn't.  This is bought with my own money.  Mom and dad have never been able to give me a penny.  I worked my way through university, and now I work hard to pay for my own life."

"God, | wish my sons were like you.  How old are you - mid twenties?"

"Twenty four."

"Just like my eldest son.  But he's never worked for a day in his life.  I paid for the best schools, the best university, and he's bone idle.  He's rude and arrogant.  I can't imagine him being courteous to someone as you've been, or even being able to sit down like this and just talk."

"I shouldn't be too harsh on him - me and my dad don't do this, either.  And you probably don't have your son do to you what we did earlier... And I don't do it to my dad, either!  Once two guys have fucked, you know, there's a certain intimacy between them...."

We both laughed a the idea of having sex with parents and children, but he went on "Never the less, you are astonishingly mature.  I need men like you in my organisation.  I don't suppose | could offer you a job?"

I didn't hesitate even for  moment.  "No.  It's really good of you, but do you remember what you said about 'yes men' around you?  I don't want to be like that.  I like being my own boss, earning my own living.  Being my own man."

"Yes, that's the problem.  All the men with strong characters, like you, no longer want to  climb the corporate ladder."

We talked on, and suddenly realised it was midnight!  He reached for his mobile, and pressed a button.

"Hey, Ray, I must go.... I've got a board meeting in the morning.  I'll just get the chauffeur."

"No, let the guy sleep!  I'll call the local minicab company."

"No - the insurers insist I have my chauffeur who's trained in anti-kidnapping stuff, otherwise our corporate cover is invalid."

"Now I really don't envy you!  There is another  solution, though... Stay the night."

He looked at me.  "No.... I couldn't take another fucking, and you've worn me out - I couldn't get it hard enough to fuck you!"

"I thought you were meant to be tough! Look, you don't know what you're turning down.  First, I don't ask guys to stay the night, never.  You're the first.  And second, I don't get fucked, except by a couple of very special guys.  Half the porn watchers in the world wonder what it would be like to get heir cocks up my arse, and you could have the opportunity. And, what's more, I'm offering it to you for free, even though you look as if you can well afford to pay a working guy like me."

"Well, with terms like that.... "

Actually, we didn't fuck again that night - we just lay in each other's arms chatting and whispering and occasionally nuzzling each other with the sheer delight of being in the company of another man we really liked.  We wanked, as we were both hard, and drifted into sleep almost stuck together with our cum.   

The next morning he almost panicked!  He couldn't go to the office in the same shirt he'd word the day before - which did look very crumpled, after what he'd been through, I admit.  Mine were too big for him, so we had a faintly hilarious episode when we raced across London in a minicab to his hotel so he could change, then back again to his office.

It's amazing what men tell you when they're happy and content and satiated with sex.  He'd talked about business as we lay in bed that night, and I didn't understand most of it.  But I did call my bank and make a small investment that morning, and a week later I had tripled my money.

The other pleasant surprise was that my contact in the company called me up later that day and asked me to go in.  I wore my suit gain, and went to his office - there was a contract there for "Consultancy Services".  It paid me five thousand pounds a day - and noted that I'd already done one day's work. 

"Our CEO is delighted with the work you do", he told me with a grin, "And I've been asked to see if your diary is free on the following dates for further 'consultancy and counselling  service sessions' ...."

Well, that was the start of my wealth.  Five thousand for a fuck.  Plus the capital appreciation on my investments which flowed in a fairly consistent stream.  And, of course, he recommended me to his friends - I discovered that there was discrete circle of senior executives who liked to play when they were away from home, and having a reliable, intelligent, responsive playmate, who could be charged to corporate expenses, was just the ticket.  I'm careful, of course, never to make investments that are too big if I hear of good opportunities when I'm with clients - although I doubt that the financial regulators would ever guess how I might come by the information!

It's not all good news, though - I've now got to pay tax!  The stockbrokers, and the companies with the corporate contracts, all report to the Inland Revenue.  I'd never paid tax in my life before, as the porn video game and the escorting business are strictly "cash in hand".  So that takes 40% off  my money straight away - what a fucking cheek the government has, to tax my hard work!   And I have to pay an accountant - although he does manage to get some of the costs of running my flat offset against this income, as it's my "business premises".

So what of Steve and Joe?  Well, they left England for good last year.  Steve didn't want Joe to keep working outdoors in the British winter as he got older.  So they sold up and bought a ramshackle property in Cyprus.  They're converting it into a luxury guest house for gay guys, and already they get quite a lot of customers - Joe is doing all the rebuilding himself, and the guests get a real thrill from seeing him toiling away, stark naked, at the work.  Steve runs gym classes, and really makes them work out!  

I was really sad to lose them, as we'd got into the habit of always spending Sundays, and Sunday nights together.  I really enjoyed the intimacy we shared, and there is always something special about the men who first introduce you to sex, after all!  But they come over four times a year, as they still make porno films - they still look great, and the audience seems to like big, solid, older guys anyway (especially when they tame wild young lads!).  Those four weeks are special for me - I don't take clients (unless it's one of my special corporate contracts, and I can't afford to turn one of those down!), and Steve and Joe stay with me:  I keep thinking of buying a bigger flat, I can well afford it, but every time I do I remember that then all three of us wouldn't be crammed together in such delightful closeness in my current place!

We did another film together last time they were over.  There was to be a "rape" scene in it, and the director wanted Steve to overpower me and fuck me hard.  I thought the scene would work as well the other way, and as Steve started to wrestle me to the ground, I fought back.  As Steve was getting older, I was growing in power of course, and for the first time I realised that I could overcome him.  I wrestled him harder and harder, then flipped him onto his stomach and started to thrust my cock at his hole.  Then I saw Joe looking at me, and shaking his head.  I knew what he meant - Steve was always in charge; he never got fucked by Joe or me; and if I went ahead, something would change for ever in our relationships, and it might not be for the best.  So without doing it overtly, I slackened off a bit and Steve took that opportunity to fight back.  I let him fuck me, actually - and he was particularly harsh and vicious, so that even with all my experience, I was sore afterwards.  But it was one of those things that I suppose is worth the price.

Mom and dad are rather like the US forces -  "Don't ask, don't tell".  They know I make a lot of money, they know I never have girls on my arm, and they know they wouldn't really like to know what I do.  So they don't discuss it, and neither do I.  Actually, I know they know - I was with dad in the local newsagents one day, and there, staring at him from a gay magazine on the top shelf, was my face with the headline "Favourite porn star does it again".  But he didn't mention it, of course, and neither did I - but I could tell from the way his body stiffened that he'd seen it. 

Mom sometimes lets things slip, though.  She'll say something like "Oh I wish I had grandchildren.  Look at that Alex that you used to be so close to - he's got four kids now.  His mother's a lucky woman!"

Well, his mother might be a lucky woman, but his wives or girl friends aren't - Alex got married at 17 and had three kids, one a year, before he was 21. Then he left her, or she walked out on him, who knows, and he's just had another by his current woman.  

I've seen them in the streets - she's always walking by his side, but slagging him off!  They're piss poor - Alex doesn't earn anything, of course, working as a street cleaner.  And with alimony to his wife, maintenance payments for the first three kids, and the cost of his girlfriend and the fourth kid, I don't know how he affords the rent on their grimy council flat.

I'd been visiting mom and dad one day, and stopped in the local for a drink - well, actually, to get out of the rain that suddenly burst out: I'm not a big drinker.  Alex was in there, nursing a pint on the bar.  I couldn't avoid him, and,  actually, I didn't want to - it was time there was closure between us.  So I went up to him and said hullo.

Alex just ignored me, and I was cross.  "Look, you could at least say hullo to an old friend."

"Friend?  Fucking friend...?  You ruined my life..."

"Hey, Alex, how did I ever ruin your life?"

He'd almost been shouting, but now dropped his voice so the rest of the pub couldn't hear.  "You fucked me!"

"So?"

"You heard.  I said 'you fucked me'."

"But why did that ruin your life?  Men get fucked all the time."

"I don't know about you, Ray, but I'm a proper bloke.  I don't fuck men, and I don't take it up the arse.  If you hadn't fucked me..."

"Hold on!  You ignorant shit - you've no idea what real men do!  All you do is pump sperm into those slags who produce your whiny kids.  How do you know what real men do?  You never gave it a chance - you chickened out as soon as you could.  And, in any case, if it hadn't been for you, we'd never have been in that situation in the first place."

"Now you're blaming me...."

"No one's blaming anyone, Alex, except you!  There's no 'blame' anyway - it s all perfectly natural..."

He started to scream  "Natural... You fucking pervert... You..."

So I hit him.  Hard.  And I'm a powerful bloke. 

He collapsed on the floor, and the landlord and the other customers started to shout at me - although when they saw my size and fitness, they didn't come too close or try to intervene!

I decided the best thing to do was to get out of there, so I pulled Alex to his feet, wrapped an arm of his around my neck, and half carried, half dragged him into the street.  Blood was pouring from his nose and going all over me - he must have hit it as he went down, as I'd punched him in the stomach as I hadn't wanted to damage his face.

I saw a taxi, and hailed it, but he didn't stop - I don't suppose the sight of all that blood was very appealing.  But he got stuck at the lights, so I dragged Alex over, and wrenched open the cab  door.  The driver started to shout, but shut up when I told him I'd do the same to him, and thrust a couple of twenties at him from my wallet (I've always got lots of cash - most of my clients pay that way!). 

I took Alex back to my flat, stripped his clothes off, and pushed him into the bath.  Hot water works wonders for most aches and pains, I know (it can get rough making some of the films I'm now in to).  I stripped, too, as I was covered in his blood, and stood at the end of the bath and ran the shower over me.

"Fucking leave me alone, pervert", Alex snarled.

"What makes you think I fancy you, Alex?  Look at you - you used to be a real stud, with all the girls chasing you.  Now you've got that manky long hair that's not even very clean-looking, you're getting a pot belly from too much beer and poor food...."

Alex was looking at me, as I stood there, the perfect picture of a man in his mid twenties - athletic, muscular, handsome, bronzed, with my clipped hair... I knew he was comparing himself to me.

I got out of the bath and dried myself, then went and fetched him a beer.  I didn't even think anything of it, I suppose - I usually go around my flat naked if I've showered - but I think Alex read something in to it.

As he lay in the hot water chugging the beer down, I could see him looking at me again and again.  He looked so sad.

"Come on, Alex.  That water's getting cold.  All the benefit will be gone from it.  Up you come.."  I reached down and took his arm, thinking he would still be stiff.

"I told you not to touch me, pervert!"

"Use that word once more, Alex, and I'll hit you again."

"Fucking pervert...."

So I did.  I pulled him out of the bath, sat on the lavatory, pulled him over my naked thighs, held his head down with one hand and spanked his bum four times with the other.  He shut up, abruptly.  I tipped him off my knees, and he sprawled naked on the bathroom floor, looking up at me.

"Alex, I'm bigger than you and stronger than you.  If I wanted to fuck you, I could and I would and there wouldn't be a blind thing you could do about it.  Instead, I'm just trying to help."

As I said this, I took one of my big bath sheets and wrapped it around his body - he was almost too thin, and didn't have good muscular development for a man the same age as me.

He kept it tightly wrapped around him as I looked at his clothes - they were not very good quality anyway,  were very worn, and were soaked in blood.  So I rummaged through my wardrobe, and found some old sweat pants and a T-shirt for him.

He went to turn away from me in order to dress, and I was fed up by his silly posturing.  

"For God's sale, Alex, I've seen your tackle often enough.  And I don't suppose it's shrunk or anything, has it, from all those women you fuck?"

There was a flicker of a grin across Alex's face for a moment.  

"Come and have a beer, for old time's sake.  And shake?"  I held out my hand, and he took it.

Well, one beer became two, became three, became four, and we were soon talking about "the old days". We were laughing and joking, almost as if the intervening years had not happened.  Suddenly we noticed it was eight o'clock, and Alex said he ought to be going.  I gave him the phone to ring his girl friend to say he was on his way, but after he had dialled and said something, I heard the most foul string of invective pouring out of the phone at Alex.  The poor guy looked so wretched - she was screaming so loud that I couldn't help hearing, and she told Alex never to go back again, that she'd call the police, that she'd already changed the locks...

Alex looked shattered.  "Oh, fuck me - I suppose it's back to sleeping on the sofa at me mom's. What a cow!  Still, it had to happen - we've never really got on, and I only started fucking her after my marriage broke up, just to teach my ex a lesson."

He went to leave, and looked around at my flat wistfully.

"You could sleep on my sofa tonight, Alex, if you'd rather..."

He looked at me.  "Well, it would save me that trek out to Dagenham.  And my mom might not be in..." 

"You must be starving.  Let's have something to eat."

As I cooked my favourite spaghetti and sauce, Alex stood in the kitchen and we had another couple of beers.  By the time we had finished eating, we were almost friends again.

I went to get some spare bedclothes out of the cupboard for Alex to use on my sofa, and as I did so I thought I'd test him.

"You know what's saddest, Alex.  And look, mate, I'm sorry if this hurts, but it's true.  Well, what's saddest is that the Alex I knew was always in charge.  You always took the lead.  You decided everything.  Now I see that you let all these slags order you around.  And you're even afraid to share a bed with an old mate."

"No I'm not.  I still decide things... I"

"So why am I getting all this stuff out then?  The bedroom's through there, if you're not afraid!"

I have a super king size bed of course - I'm a big guy anyway, and I like my clients to have a lot of room if I'm doing an in-call.  Alex looked at it, and said  "Which side?"

"You choose, Alex - I'm easy."

He got under the duvet, still wearing the sweat pants and T.  I had pulled on the same thing whilst I was cooking, but of course now stripped them off, and massaged my cock to free it from where it had been sticking a bit to my balls.  I saw Alex watching.

As we lay there, I said "You know, Alex, it's ironic - you got me into the porn stuff, and it made my life.  But you think it ruined yours. I think you've got a real hang-up about men, and you'll never really get on with your life until you get over it."

"Don't be so fucking stupid, Ray.  Since when did you know anything about psychology?"

"I'm a pretty good practical psychologist, Ray.  That's why I'm so good as an escort.  I always give the client what he really wants, even if he doesn't know that's what he wants."

"You get fucked for money, here, in this bed?"

"No, Alex.  I fuck for money, here, in this bed.  I'm a top, as they say, and I only give it, not take it.  That's another way I've changed - I always used to do as you told me, but now it's me who makes the rules."  

Alex went silent and turned over on his side, away from me, and after a few minutes I thought I heard a little muffled sob.

"Alex...  Are you OK?"

"Yes" - but it was very muffled, very halting.

I moved over the bed and put my arm around Alex.  I could feel his ribs heaving with emotion.

"Hey, Alex, what's the matter?"

Then it all came out.  In halting phrases, and then gradually getting faster and faster, Alex told me how he'd lost his way after our first filming, how he'd just started fucking wildly, how he'd got his wife pregnant when he was 17 and had to marry her, the misery of life with no money and more kids on the way, the rows, the soul-destroying work with no interest, no prospects....  And then he went on to say that it hadn't affected me, though - I had a good job, lots of money, a nice flat.... And I was the one now in control.

"Alex - fuck me"

"What?"

"You need to be in control again, mate.  You lost it when I fucked you.  No one has ever fucked me other than Steve and Joe, so you'd be 'the first' in a manner of speaking.  Go on... Fuck me, reassert your manhood."

"No, I couldn't."

"Why not?  You seem to know how to use that cock of yours.  Four kids, is it?  Any more on the way?"

Alex actually laughed.  

"Who can say, the dirty slags!  I asked them if they were on the pill, and they said yes.  But it was just so that I'd get them in the club, then I'd have to live with them...."

I was right next to him still, and I moved my hand down over his belly and onto his crotch, still on top of the sweat pants.

"I do think I detect a bit of interest, Alex...."

"No, I couldn't.  You'd slap me, or hurt me, or something."

I reached into the bedside cabinet and got out the cuffs I keep there for clients who enjoy a feeling of total helplessness.  I snapped one on to one wrist, pushed the other around the bar on the behead, and snapped the other closed on my other wrist.  

"There.  Helpless.  Unless you let me out with the key in the bedside cabinet, I'm stuck here."

I was reminded somehow of the scene when I'd fucked Joe that time all those years ago, with his nose ring locked to the bed.

Alex got out of bed and stripped the duvet off, and looked down at my body.

"You're in fantastic shape, mate."

"Yes.  I get paid a lot to look like this.  Most of my clients would shell out a lot of money for what you're about to take for free.  And they wouldn't get to use my arse, not like you..."

Something changed in Alex almost as I watched.  He stripped the T and sweat pants off, and he was erect!  

I don't know how his girl friends rated him, but as a fucker of men he left a lot to be desired - he didn't bother with any lube, or anything, just went straight in at me: I'd never do that to another bloke.  I wanted to scream a bit as it actually hurt as he thrust home, but gritted my teeth as I didn't want to scare Alex or put him off his stroke.  But mercifully it didn't last long, as he shot almost immediately.  

"OK, Alex?"

"Ray... That was.... OK."

"Good.  Now let me out of these things...."

"Oh no... I'm in charge, remember....."

He pulled the duvet up over both of us and started to play with my body - pulling at my nipples, squeezing my balls, skinning my foreskin back...  I was soon shouting and laughing with the pain and the pleasure.  And the louder I was, and the more I wriggled and squirmed to try to escape Alex's hands and teeth, the more he seemed to be enjoying it.

It's horrible, actually, to have to spend the whole night with your hands cuffed above your head, but I had to - I had no choice really as they were proper police cuffs and there was no way I could break them.  And in spite of my pleading, Alex refused to get the key out.  

Alex slept like a child, though, pressed close to me, and I moved as little as I could to avoid waking him - the poor guy looked as if he needed a good rest.  I don't suppose that with that nagging bitch and the whiny kid he often got a good night's sleep.

In the morning he let me go, and we lay there.

"Christ, Ray, what did I do?"

"You enjoyed sex, Alex.  You enjoyed sex in a way that I don't suppose you've enjoyed it for a long time."

We showered together, all embarrassment having evaporated from Alex.  Then he wanted to fuck me again!

"No, Alex.  I told you, I don't take it up the arse."

I thought he was going to revert to his mood of depression again, but he just smiled, and said "We'll see about that, as things develop...."

I can't tell you how things are going to work out in the long term.  After I went with Alex to see his cow of a girl friend, and he realised she really had only used him to get a kid, he looked pretty miserable.  But we spent the afternoon in bed (the loss of clients was costing me a fortune, but, who cares?) He cheered up - we didn't fuck, as I would not let him fuck me, and I didn't ant to revive old memories by fucking him.  But a very large quantity of cum was spilled as we wanked, kissed, and generally enjoyed each other's bodies.  He said he was going to leave them all behind - the women, the kids - but I persuaded him that he needed to keep in touch with the kids - all boys - as they'd need a father to teach them all about proper man to man sex, otherwise they might wind up like Alex had been.

That night as we lay together, I told Alex my plan.   I'd pay for him to go and live at Steve and Joe's for three months - they'd get his body back into shape, and "educate" him on how men truly enjoy sex.  He'd come back to London with them on their next trip, when Steve, Joe and I were due to make our next film together.  "Who knows", I said, "We might do a sequel to the one great one we all four did together!"

They're all due  at Heathrow tomorrow.  I'm so excited.  I've got to stop writing - I'm so hard thinking about them that it's hurting and I need to wank.

THE END

