SEVEN HITS! Get Your Ass Ready! (12 page)

Then he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was his friend Nick, who’d filmed his audition tape – a tape that had turned out to be Nick’s own audition for Pirate Island as a cameraman. Nick was wearing a PI t-shirt as well, but with the sleeves cut off to show his chef’s tats, brightly colored fruits and vegetables and, Tyler saw, a new addition, a big pig on his shoulder.

“Who’s the pig?” Tyler asked him with a smile.

“You know the answer to that,” Nick laughed. He looked at the action in the corner. “You looking for an encore?” he asked with his sly grin, putting a hand down the back of Tyler’s pants.

“Hell, yeah!”

“Mark’s got other plans for you tonight, pal.” He led Tyler back to the bathroom, where the walls were painted black, the white urinals and sink glowing in the dark. A camera on a tripod was pointed at the one toilet stall. Nick pushed him into the stall.

“Down on your knees, buddy,” Nick said. “Facing me.” He was already behind the camera, adjusting the lens, compensating for the dim lighting.

Tyler got down on the dirty floor, his temperature rising. “I’m getting hot, can I take my shirt off?”

“You sure can,” Nick said, hitting Record. “So you know what’s coming?”

“No,” Tyler said honestly into the camera. “No idea.” He looked towards the door, where he saw Zack Black, one of the Pirate Island stars, leaning against the door frame and rubbing his massive crotch.

“This is called ‘Sixty Cocks in Sixty Minutes.’ Sixty lucky guys tonight are going to get one minute each for you to suck their cocks.”

Tyler swallowed. “Holy crap.” He watched as Zack pulled out his nine inch dick and started stroking it, watching Tyler the whole time.

Nick laughed. “You up for it?”

“Yeah. Oh, yeah.”

Nick looked over the camera. “Don’t worry. They’ve been handpicked, no losers in the lot. And they’ve all been told to stroke themselves till they get close, because we want to see a lot of cum shots. Right, Zack?”

“Ready when you are,” he said, walking towards Tyler.

“Clock starts...now,” Nick said, and with that, Zack thrust his rock hard piece into Tyler’s waiting mouth.

Zack didn’t waste any time forcing it down Tyler’s throat – no prelims, no foreplay. He had sixty seconds to get his rocks off and he was going to come hell or high water.

“Thirty seconds,” Nick said, and Zack pulled out and stroked himself hard and fast, slapping the head against Tyler’s face. “Twenty.” Zack gasped and started to cum, only a few stray drops missing Tyler’s lips before he jammed it back in, filling Tyler’s mouth up with
jizz
.

“Time,” Nick said, and when Zack tried to get a few more thrusts in, he found himself pulled off by the next guy in the line Tyler suddenly saw was forming in the bathroom, a guy who had his fat cock in Tyler’s mouth before he’d even had time to swallow Zack’s cum.

On and on they came, dick after dick, most of them managing to cum in time and those who didn’t pulled off by the next in line, sometimes scuffling angrily, which was the only time Tyler had to catch his breath. At some point, the bouncer ended up handling the dissatisfied, which only made more of the guys edge themselves as close as they could before taking their turn and unloading into Tyler’s mouth.

Soon the cum was everywhere, soaking him, crusting on his face, his neck, his chest. Nick whispered encouragement, advice, directions. “That’s it, stick your tongue out when he slaps you with that cock. Let’s see you begging for it.”

The red light blinked and blinked as Tyler sucked cock after cock, and Nick had been right, there wasn’t a loser in the bunch. Guys who hadn’t done Pirate Island movies in years, retired or burned out, were all there, familiar in face and body and dick to Tyler from years of
wanking
to their images, every one of them rested and ready for this.

“Fifty nine,” Nick said, as another one finished off and yanked up his pants and walked away.

“Tell me you’re sixty,” Tyler said, laughing, spent, not even looking up to see who it was.

“I’m sixty,” Mitch Bradford said. “Get ready, bitch.”

He grabbed Tyler and pulled him up to his feet, then spun him around and pushed him down over the toilet. Mitch ran his hand over Tyler’s torso, collecting great gobs of cum, and thrust his fingers into Tyler’s ass.

“Ah, shit!” Tyler shouted. Mitch’s cock punched his hole like an
awl
through leather. Someone had brought Nick a barstool, and he stood on it, pointing the camera over the stall wall, capturing Tyler’s shock and agony. “Fuck! Oh fuck!”

His pain only excited Mitch, who punched his ass harder. Clonk, clonk, clonk went Tyler’s head against the toilet tank. “Thirty seconds!” Nick shouted.

Mitch pulled out for a second, just long enough for the camera to record its first twitch, its first spurt of juice, before he rammed it home again, over and over. Tyler’s asshole was delirious with the pain, even as his prostate sang with pleasure.

“Five…four…three…two…one!” Ever the pro, Mitch pulled out on time, still spurting onto Tyler’s back. “Sixty cocks in sixty minutes,” Nick said. The camera lingered on Tyler’s panting face as he turned to Nick, the audience, and smiled.

As Tyler stumbled out the door of the bar, he heard Nick’s voice behind him. “Hey!”

Tyler turned around to see Nick hauling the camera bag with one hand, and waving an envelope with the other.

“You almost forgot your paycheck.”

“Paycheck?”

“Yeah, man, or did you forget you get paid for this stuff?”

Tyler laughed. To be honest, he had forgotten...to get paid for it was the icing on the cake. His retail job paid the bills but that was it. He opened the envelope. “Holy shit!” he exclaimed. “A thousand bucks!”

“Nice. Dinner’s on you, right?”

Tyler looked up. Was this a date? He realized he’d never been to dinner with Nick. “Sure is,” he smiled. “What did you make for running the camera?”

“Less than that,” Nick smiled. “Come on, I know a great late night place.”

Of course Nick the chef knew the greatest late night place, a restaurant that only opened at midnight and catered mostly to other kitchen pros. “He’ll have the lamb shanks,” Nick ordered for Tyler, raising an eyebrow. “Work for you?”

“Whatever you recommend.”

Nick nodded, pleased. “So Mark has big plans for you.”

“How do you know?”

Nick polished off a bruschetta
and swallowed. “He told me this afternoon when I was getting my instructions for tonight.”

“So is this your new job now, Pirate Island cinematographer? Does Mark call you ‘my young apprentice’?” Tyler teased him.

Nick shrugged. “It’s a pretty hot gig, I gotta say, and since I’m not working until
Tony’s new restaurant opens, what else am I gonna do with myself besides get in trouble?”

“So…” Tyler ventured. “Have you been filming anyone else?”

Nick paused, fork halfway to his mouth. “Why, you jealous?”

Tyler thought about what to say next. Some part of him wanted to back away, to say, oh no man, not me! But what was the truth of it? The idea of Nick sticking that big beautiful cock in someone else – in pig bottom Jeff, for instance – made Tyler see a little red around the edges.

“If you’re ‘filming’ them like you’ve ‘filmed’ me? Yeah, I would be.”

The surprise on Nick’s face was genuine, a mix of shock and pleasure. It had been the last thing he’d expected to hear. “Well, as it happens, I haven’t yet.”

Tyler thought of all the cocks he’d just taken, and the absurdity of asking Nick if he’d touched even one other man in the same time frame since their audition fuck. “Does it…do you think I’m a slut? Because I don’t want to…”

Nick held up a hand. “Dude. I think it’s hot.
Waaayyy
hot. In fact, I’d take you home right now and bang the shit out of you if I could,” he winked.

“Why can’t you?” Tyler asked, flushing with lust and excitement.

“I nearly forgot to tell you. Mark’s orders. You’re to ‘ripen’ for a while before your next assignment.”

“Ripen? What does that mean?”

“It means, no cock for you for a while. So that when you do your next movie, you are so fucking ready it’s not even funny.”

The look on Nick’s face was almost enough to send Tyler under the table to do him right here. The tension around his eyes, the slackness of his mouth, the way the idea was turning him on so completely, made Tyler want to do anything that would keep Nick looking like that, feeling like that.

“You think you can resist me that long?” Tyler asked him, his bare bold stare a challenge.

Nick’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah I can. Don’t forget who’s in charge here.”

Tyler swallowed, nodded. Nick was so easygoing outside the bedroom, he’d forgotten how dominant and controlling he could be in it. Especially, Tyler realized now, with a camera rolling.

He had an idea. “So there’s no way Mark can stop me from touching myself, is there?”

“Haha! No.”

“Would you like to see that?” Tyler whispered. “Watch me touching myself, after I’ve gone a week or two without any cock?” It was a challenge, he knew, that his competitive friend would be unable to resist. “Could you do that, you think, keep following orders if I was working it for the camera? Showing you how bad I need it?”

“Fuck,” Nick whispered. “You bastard.”

Tyler smiled. Now that he knew Nick’s fetish, the intermediary of a camera in their sexual encounters, he had him by the balls. “So how long before I’m set to film the next movie?”

“Three weeks.”

“Three weeks! Shit...” Damn that was a long time without sex. Tyler couldn’t remember the last drought that had lasted that long. But what reason had he ever had to go without that long? The reason sitting across from him now was the best he’d ever had. Best reason, best lay…

Nick was different, Tyler thought, the realization dawning on him that he was looking for more than just a fling with him, more than just a fuck buddy. And Nick was easily bored, Tyler knew – this was exactly the kind of thing that would keep his interest piqued.

“I’ll bet you dinner at this restaurant, with a nice bottle of wine on top of it, that if I send you videos of me touching myself, every day for the next three weeks, you can’t stop yourself from sticking your dick in me before that. Are we on?”

Nick took a long pull off his beer. “Yeah, man. We’re on.”

“But…” Tyler grinned, “Can
you
keep it in your pants that long, too? Can
you
go three weeks without getting laid?”

“Me!” Nick said, startled. “Oh, I get it. Good for the goose, good for the gander?”

“Hey,” Tyler smiled, “isn’t that what friends do, support each other through a crisis?”

“Three weeks without a mouth on my cock? That’s a fucking crisis, all right.” He thought about it, but Tyler could see that he’d guessed right in throwing down the challenge. “Fine. No sex for me either. Fuck.”

“Just think about how ripe we’ll both be when it’s time for my next scene for Pirate Island. Maybe you’ll even come out from behind the camera again for that.”

Nick’s dark eyes bored into Tyler’s, a promise and a threat. “You can definitely bet on that.”

It seemed like the whole town knew about Tyler’s new career. He couldn’t fold shirts in the window of the store he worked in, or stand in line to get a cup of coffee, or have a drink with friends after work, without men staring at him, picturing him with his mouth full of cock. “Sixty Cocks in Sixty Minutes” had gone on sale only a week after the event, and his face was on the box, a still photo from halfway through the hour, when his face was already slathered in cum.

And as a consequence, keeping his promise to ‘ripen’ for Nick, and Pirate Island, was a lot harder than he’d imagined. Guys he’d seen every day on the street, hot guys who’d given him the thousand yard stare every time, eyes fixed on an imaginary point far beyond him as they walked past, now suddenly
saw
him, recognized him, some with shock or distaste but more than enough of them with raw, naked
lust
.

“Hey! Excuse me! Are you…” Yes, yes he was, thanks, I appreciate that. No, he said, actually, I’m seeing someone. Yeah, it’s serious. Yeah, he knows about the movies, in fact he…

Then it was either, that is so hot tell me more, and Tyler had to say, sorry, Charlie, another day. Or it was, it can’t be
that
serious of a relationship if you’re doing porn, and then it was like a South Park episode, c’mon, Satan, let’s fuck! Tyler’s naturally mild demeanor didn’t really tend towards shouting “hey fuck you!” but some days he thought he was getting there.

And while under ordinary circumstances he probably would have lost his mind, going without sex for so long, this was different. Whacking off wasn’t the same once you’d gotten
accustomed to regularly scheduled sex – it cleaned the pipes but that was it. Unless, of course, you made a game of it.

The first day he had to get a Dropbox set up so Nick could download a longer, higher-resolution file than Tyler could email. Then he had to mess with his basic digital camera, do some tests, transfer them to the computer, see how they looked on a monitor. They were going to look pretty amateurish, but then that was the point wasn’t it?

He smiled at the camera. “Hey, Nick. Here goes, the twenty one days of Christmas. Like an Advent calendar, only every day when you open the little window, a dick pops out! I thought I’d start out with a little trip down memory lane.” Then he put the camera on his nightstand, so the shot included Tyler’s bed and his TV, almost shooting over Tyler’s shoulder as he lay there watching.

Tyler stripped and got on the bed and clicked the remote. The movie was the video Nick had filmed that first day – the audition tape that had started it all.