Saturday, September 28, 2013

FTM Porn: From Bed to Sling

The Next Town Over—August, 2013

The phone rang.  I have put it in a little pocket on the console of my Ford Focus.  I reach for it and flip it open.  (Yes, I still have a flip phone.  And I like it.)

“Yes?”
“It’s off.  He thinks he wants to go home,” sighs the producer of the Transman porn website.

“I’m over halfway there.”  It’s my turn to sigh.
“Wait a minute, I’ll call you back.  Keep on coming.”

A mile later the phone rings again.
“He’ll do it,” the producer barks out, before I can even say hello.

“See you in just a few.”

 We’ve done the paper work.  I’ve signed my waiver.  Justin has signed his.  The producer disappears to get us coffee.  Justin and I talk a little.  The young man opposite me in the under furnished family room is dark blond, with his hair cut short.  He is maybe 5’8” and trim.  He lives in Chicago and is here for the weekend.  Whatever the problem had been, it seems to be resolved.  I want to make sure he won’t change his mind mid-scene.  As soon as the producer returns and hands him some sort of fancy coffee, he disappears to shower and get ready.
I set up the sling in the master bedroom.

“We’ll start on the bed in the small room,” the producer tells me.  “Then invite him to your place for a ride in the sling.  I trust you to improv some dialogue.”
I nod.  No worries there.  I strip down.  I feel incredibly naked without boots and jock.

“Put your underwear back on.”  I step back into my grey boxer briefs.  They cover my growing bulge, mounding it nicely.
The small room, even lit by the umbrella reflected lights, is cool.  Justin really feels it walking out of the steamy bathroom and sitting on the smaller bed.

“Ok.  We set?” asks the producer.  “Oh, no anal.  Keep it all front hole.  And action.”
I am a tad disappointed.  I love three holes to play in.

We improvise something about a mutual attraction—something about how we’ve always wanted to meet.  I pull him into a kiss.  He responds.  He’s a good kisser.  No reservations at all.  My index finger traces the tattoos on his shoulder and bicep.  We knead each other’s underwear.  I pull mine down, so my cock flops free.
Soon he’s sucking my dick.  He’s bent at the waist, in an awkward position.  I flatten out on the bed.  I pull him down so he can take my cock more easily.  I love the feel of his younger skin against my chest.

“Sixty-nine,” comes the prompt from the producer.  We pause as Justin gets rid of red underwear.  I twist my head so I’m under him.  My tongue finds his asshole.  He grunts in appreciation as I connect.  I linger there then work down to his front hole.  I lick and swallow.  I spit and reach around to play with his now wet t-cock as my tongue invades his hole.  Justin squirms and takes me to the root. 
Without waiting for a prompt, he pulls forward and settles down on my cock, facing away from me and towards the camera.  I watch the lens zoom in so it sees nothing but my oversized, wet cock splitting him in two.  When the camera pulls back, Justin reverses.  He bends towards me to kiss me as I continue to pound up into his front hole.

“Taste yourself on me.”  I wonder if he’ll want to, but he gets right off me and takes my cock to the root.  He sucks me and then comes up to kiss me deeply.  It’s my turn to sigh.
I get a sign from the producer.  I ask Justin if he’d like to try the sling at my house. 

“Break.”  We all take a moment to drink water—or the remains of our coffee.  The room has warmed.  We make the trip down to the other bedroom.  The producer brings the lights and sets them up so he gets the fewest shadows possible.
“Ready?”

“Sure.”  I look at Justin.  He’s already in the sling, making clear his answer.  I get his feet in the stirrups.
“Action.”

I kneel and work my tongue around his ass, then into his front hole.  My lips surround his t-cock (the least pronounced I have had in my mouth.)  
I stand up and sink my cock into Justin.  I fuck a few strokes and then stand still.  I push the sling away from with my hands on the d-rings.  I pull him back onto me.  Hard.  He grunts.  He seems to really like this.  I don’t move.  I just fuck him onto my cock—pulling him towards me and pushing him away.  My hips suddenly take over, without my really thinking about it. I am slamming into him.

“Go for the cum shot.”
Really?  Already?

“Don’t cum in my hole—I’m not on testosterone right now.”
The producer hands me some paper towel.  I hold it in my hand.  I go back to fucking him.  When I think I’m close, I dip down to taste the hole.  The amount of wetness on my tongue sends me over the edge.  I stand up, wadding the towel in his front hole, out of camera line (I hope), and stroke off a big load that covers his abdomen and t-cock.

“And cut.”
It’s all business now.  I wash a little, dress and pack the sling up.  Justin and I get it downstairs to the front foyer.

“Here.”  It’s the producer coming towards the front door from the kitchen.  He hands me my check.  I smile and thank him.  I pocket it—grateful for the car payment I just made in no time at all.

This shoot is still waiting to be edited.  There are a couple of stills (like the one above here.)

Update:  4/24/2017:  This is one of my most popular posts with tons of weekly hits.  Readers, the studio has made these these films free to down load.  Go to the link here.

4 comments:

  1. Replies
    1. I don't need to be a porn star---but I'll settle for occasionally being a good porn worker....

      Delete
  2. Hawwwt! I definitely can't do porn. Too distracting! I get wrapped up trying to read my partner and adding a director to the mix will just throw me off... But looks like you don't have that problem at all...

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. It really doesn't bother me--having the director/cameraman there. I guess that maybe a third of my sex life is with more then one other person--I'm very used to having others around. I remember guys telling me they looked forward to me coming to the bathhouse--for I always put on a good show. The shoots have been pretty much an extension of that....

      Delete